


It Takes a Lot of Cold Showers to Take the Heat Off

by EasyTiga



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Chefs, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jared, Disorder Caused By Trauma, First Dates, Horny J2, I waited until they had sex to add sex tags rip, Jealous Jensen Ackles, M/M, Mpreg, OCD Jensen Ackles, Office Sex, Past sexual abuse as a Child, Possessive Jensen Ackles, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnant Jared Padalecki, Pregnant Sex, Protective Jared Padalecki, Protective Jensen Ackles, Public Sex, Supernatural Elements, Table Sex, These Guys Fuck Like Rabbits, Top Jensen, Wake-Up Sex, Wall Sex, cock blocking, rework
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2020-11-22 07:27:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 86,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20870435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EasyTiga/pseuds/EasyTiga
Summary: CURRENTLY ON HIATUSSAVE YOURSELF THE TROUBLE AND WAIT, IS MY SUGGESTION. I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG IT WILL TAKE TO GET BACK TO IT.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rework of a story of the same title. There are going to be a lot of changes, as there were many problems that I had with the old one. If you wish to read what happens next (or at least get an idea of it), then you are welcome to refer to that one to get your fix. :) I will say though that it's probably going to be a complete revamp. XD

_This isn't your first rodeo, you're gonna be just fine._

Jared clicks his tongue at his own thought, chewing the end of his thumbnail to distract himself from his own internal debate; whether or not he's prepared enough for this. It didn't matter to him that he practically filled his whole week with practice sessions for this one interview, going over any and all questions that may be asked of him, trying to find the best possible answers to achieve his intended result of getting the job--he still wonders if it's enough in the end, constantly obsessing over all the small details that most likely won't even be a _subject _during his interview. 

He sighs to himself, enjoying the solitude while he waits to be called for his turn. The man that went before him left with such a smug look on his face that Jared's not even sure if he should still be here by this point, however, the rational side of his brain tells him that that could just be a scare tactic, and it should not discourage him from going ahead with this. Besides, even if that dude nailed his interview, there is always a chance to steal that thunder away from him, with the right words, the right execution--the right everything. 

Truth be told, this is his third interview this month. Jared's been trying to get a cheffing position so that he can really start to learn how to work in a real kitchen. Of course, during his schooling, he went on various trial placements in different kitchens, learnt some new techniques, saw what it was like to work in a team--but that was only for a week or so. This is his chance to experience it firsthand as a real member of the staff, and not just a rookie taking up space in the background.

Now, Jared wouldn't say that his work experience went poorly. That would be a stretch. He would say that there were a lot of things that he felt he could have improved on at the time. The one note that he kept getting during those experiences was that he didn't use enough ingenuity, as that was his time to really show what he had learnt in class, impress the chefs he had been assigned to in order to give himself a leg up on the competition. 

He's not sure why he kind of just followed orders without much thought, or really attempted to go outside the boundaries. This surprised him the most, as taking risks has always been a big part of his life. It's what makes him who he is, for what is life without risks? Jared shakes his head, resisting the urge to whip out his phone. It wouldn't do him any good for the first thing his potential boss sees him doing is partaking in some game of match-three. Jared thinks that it would be seen as unprofessional, and that isn't how he wants to start off. 

Jared reflects on the notes that he got at the end of his previous interviews, wondering how he can incorporate them into his demeanour for this one. Most notably had been the hesitancy in his responses. Apparently his time between answers gave his interviewers the impression that he lacked confidence in himself, something that they needed for their staff. Jared understands this to a certain extent, although it does bother him in the sense that everyone is nervous during an interview, and that would surely explain his hesitancy, in part. Aside from that, his posture had been mentioned. Who knew that it was considered weird to sit too _formally? _Jared rolls his eyes at the notion, thinking that in a different day and age that never would have been a problem for him. 

Just as he's about to simulate his interview for the tenth time since sitting down, Jared is drawn to a male voice calling out his name. He quickly turns his face towards the source, readying an award-winning smile for the man, standing to his feet at he does so. His smile is returned in earnest, and Jared appreciates the smile lines crinkling the corner of the man's eyes, wondering if he has a good sense of humour. 

"Good afternoon, Sir. It's a pleasure to meet you." 

The man grins warmly, extending his hand for Jared to accept into his own. 

"Please, Jared. The pleasure is all mine."

Jared doesn't hesitate to connect their hands, feeling the heat soak into his palms. 

_Oh no. No, no. Please not now._

Jared knows what is about to happen. He _knows _what is coming, and he more than _knows _that he's going to be powerless to stop it. Except, this time, the reaction is astounding to even himself. One second he's stood tall, firmly gripping the man's hand with the intent to show that he's a respectable person, and then in the next instant he's falling to his knees with a heavy thud, feeling the discomfort in his joints as his hand falls, flattening against the carpet beneath him. 

_Why does this have to happen now? Please just go away. _

What's happening right now isn't new to Jared. It's something that he's suffered with since puberty _really_ kicked in. Fate decided to deal him this hand that would alienate him from his peers. Scientists don't know what's wrong with him, biologists are baffled by the conundrum, claiming that it goes against everything that they have discovered throughout the history of humanity. There's nothing in any research books that even comes close to suggesting a source for this abnormal spike in heat that goes beyond even the likes of hot flushes in women going through menopause. 

The heat is physically draining, causing sweat to poor from his body like an olympian, or a woman giving birth. It's exhausting, ruining Jared's clean shirt, soaking through to his jacket. The sweat is stinging his eyes as it slides down from his hairline in through the gaps. He scrunches his eyes shut at the pain, breathing heavily through his nose. 

_Why is it so intense this time? Why now?!_

Jared can vaguely hear his interviewer asking him if he's okay. It sounds as if he's underwater at this point, bearly able to make out anything with the pounding in his ears from his heartrate sky-rocketing. 

Before long, he's no longer able to hold up his weight with his hands, and collapses onto the ground, curling in on himself, wishing that he was in an ice bath right now. This is so humiliating for him. The last time this happened was over a year ago now, and it hadn't been anywhere near this degree. Everything hurts. Everything feels like it's on fire. His heart is pounding so hard he feels as though it could break through his ribcage at any point now. 

_Breathe, dude. Just breathe through it. Dammit, why couldn't you have waited until I got home? At least give me the fucking chance to get this job... _

Suddenly, he feels himself rolling onto his back, and something cool being pressed against his forehead, that voice from before trying to communicate with him. Jared has no idea who it is, but this heat is unrelenting. Whatever is being used to cool him down is doing its very best to help, yet Jared can feel the ice starting to melt against his form, wondering just how weird he must look right now. At least he'll make it to the list of top ten interviews. You know, the one where that guy literally melted ice with his head? Priceless. 

The heat cranks up a few notches, practically paralysing Jared. He doesn't think that he'll be able to move at this point. Unfortunately, he may as well resign himself to the fact that there is no way that he's going to get this job, now. What rational person would want to employ someone that burns hotter than steam? Jared internally chews himself out, wishing that he could turn back time to a few moments ago, realize that this was going to happen, and quickly excuse himself so that this didn't have to happen in front of anyone. 

"Here's that bucket you asked for, Sir." 

Jared shuts his eyes tighter when those words break through the hazy fog of heat clouding his ability to comprehend sounds, wondering just what a bucket has to do with anything right now. 

"Great, thanks... Uh, sorry, dude." 

Ice-cold water crashes down on him, making Jared shiver involuntarily. He feels it through his clothes, perking up his nipples, messing up his hair, raising every hair on his entire body all at once. It's so fucking cold. But... But it worked. He doesn't feel the heat anymore--it's finally left him alone. Yes, he's freezing his ass off now, but at least that whole episode has passed. 

Sighing through the cold, Jared attempts to lift his head, spotting concerned eyes following his movements. There's a mix of shock, astonishment, bemusement, curiosity, and something else swimming around those stunning emerald irises. Jared's not sure what to make of that. He's used to people looking at him like he's a freak during these moments, but never concern. It's sad, but people don't like to get involved with things that they can't begin to understand, and that's what this thing that Jared has, is. It's an unknown variable that begs to be understood, however, has yet to be even slightly. 

"Sorry about the cold, man. I didn't know what else to do when you were one step away from literally steaming up the place," the man says, keeping himself balanced on his haunches, seemingly anticipating another bout of heat. 

Jared laughs nervously, breathing through the shivers rocking his frame. "I understand. Thank you for doing that, really. I'm sorry you had to see that." 

"Well, if I had known that there was gonna be a show, I would have bought tickets. It's not every day you get to see a grown-ass man melt ice with his forehead." 

"Hopefully it's the same as an eclipse," Jared replies, finding it comforting that this man has decided to banter with him good-naturedly, rather than call him a freak. 

"In that case, I'll treasure this possible once in a lifetime memory." 

Jared laughs when the man places his hand over his heart to show that he means it, which seems to encourage his interviewer to help him rise to his feet, mentioning that they have some spare clothes that they could throw together for him. He does stress that they may be a little too tight, though, considering his size. 

Deciding that a change of clothes is probably the best course of action here, Jared allows himself to be shown to a changing room, while the man leaves him to pick out some clothes. It gives Jared a moment to think about what just happened here, and how he's not found himself out on his ass yet. If anything was going to risk him getting a job, it would be _that._ Somehow, though, he's being treated with respect. 

Anxiety forms in the pit of his stomach. Jared's not sure what to make of this since there's no guarantee that once he's given a fresh pair of clothes that he's not going to be then shown the door. It would be the most logical solution, given the circumstances, regardless of Jared's silent optimism that they could still potentially go ahead with the interview, despite his previous showing of onset theatrics. That would be in an ideal world, though. As much as it would suck, Jared understands that he lives in the real world, where fantasies rarely come true for people like him. 

A knock on the door temporarily interrupts his mental showdown with himself, provoking him to call out to the person to come in. Not a moment later, the door is opening, and clothes are being presented to him. He takes them with a sincere thanks, placing them on a convenient chair so that he can start peeling out of his wet clothes. 

"Just a quick question before I leave you to get changed, Jared," the man starts, waiting for Jared to lock eyes with him before continuing. "Something has been bugging me since you collapsed to the ground. I, uh, I was wondering if you're the same Jared from _Grove High? _I went to school there, and I remember this Sophomore with the same name going through something similar. I mean, that can't be a coincidence, right?" 

Jared wonders if he should lie right now. It would be difficult to convince this man that he's telling the truth when what he said is far too coincidental to be considered anything but connected in some way. Would this be the straw that breaks the camels back, though? Knowing that this isn't the first time that this has happened, and that it could become problematic in the future, regardless of how much effort Jared would be willing to put into keeping it under wraps? 

Still, lying definitely isn't the best way to handle this situation, even if this isn't your average day at the farm by any means. 

"Yeah, that's me," Jared answers begrudgingly, waiting for the nicknames to start spewing out of the guy's mouth from back then. 

_Jared Saunalecki was a pretty good one, to be honest. _

"I see," the man says, pondering that. "I don't know if you remember me, but I helped you to the Nurse's office that day in the changing rooms when you couldn't move." 

Jared frowns thoughtfully at that, taking in this man's appearance for the first time since he got here. He takes note of the dirty blonde hair, the stunning green eyes, the strong facial features, which he attempts to age down to match him to the students in his memory. All he really remembers about that event was heat, steam, cloudy thoughts, a warm touch, and bare skin that set him off that day. 

_Wait a minute... The Good Kind of Ackles... Ackles... Ackles... Jensen--Jensen Ackles. _


	2. Chapter 2

Jared's mouth falls open. 

"You're Jensen Ackles?" 

The man in question points to himself as he says, "The one and only," lighting up the room with the smile on his face. Jared feels heat creeping into his cheeks, wondering if he's about to be attacked with another heatwave in the next moment. Luckily, it doesn't come, allowing him a brief moment of pause to collect his thoughts. Who would have thought that after all of these years he would run into this man again at a job interview, and that man would turn out to be the guy that could potentially be his boss? 

_Life is weird. _

"I mean, I recognised the last name, but I had no idea that you were the owner," Jared admits sheepishly, feeling rather exposed at this point, even though he still has all his clothes on. He wore a white shirt, so he knows that most of his upper-body is visible through the fabric. "You must feel special to witness that ordeal twice." 

Jensen laughs at that, leaning against the doorframe with his forearm, hands closed. Jared does his best to not admire the man's physique when he does this, wanting nothing more to ruin his chances of even continuing his interview at this point. He does take a subtle look when Jensen glances at the floor for a brief second, though. 

"Good things come to those who wait, I guess. Anyway, I'll leave you to get changed now." 

Jared lets out a breath he hadn't known he was holding when the sound of the door closing registers in his ears. Something about Jensen's presence has him on edge, in ways that he can't begin to understand. While it's true that the heat has subsided, for the time being, each little interaction he's had with the man so far has triggered slight pulses of warmth throughout his body. It's beginning to convince him that maybe he should get out of dodge while he still can, as this could become problematic in the future. What could it be about Jensen that is making him feel this way? 

Thinking back to when he was in high school, Jared can't say that he remembers all that much. It became a blur for him after puberty kicked in full force, and had him in all states of varying stages of torturous heat. Most of his time out of school had been spent being examined by a selection of specialist Doctors that used all of their skills and knowledge to ascertain some kind of resolution as to why this phenomenon was happening to him. Jared recalls that one Doctor who reminded him of a comic book mad scientist, seemingly obsessed with the unprecedented nature of his body. He begged his parents not to take him back to that Doctor, for fear of being kidnapped. 

Jared laughs softly at the idea. For all he knew, the man could have been the one to figure out what was wrong with him. Fair to say that he'll never know for sure now. His parent's respected his wishes at the time, agreeing with an advisor that his comfort was key to getting through this ordeal. Quite some time has passed since he had anyone running experiments on him, something that he can't say he's sad about. Once he discovered certain ways to cope with his condition, he made the decision to just go about living his life the best that he could in his situation. 

As for his actual school life, though, Jared is struggling to remember anything. The only reason he knows Jensen's name is because when he woke up after that first time experiencing a heatwave, the Nurse who had been tending to him told him that he had Jensen to thank for taking him to the nurse. A few times after that, Jared did try to track Jensen down so that he could thank him in person, but never ran into him, as fate would have it, although he did happen to spot his picture in the yearbook... 

The only other person after Jensen that actually stopped to help him in those moments was his best friend Chad, who went so far as to constantly carry around a cooling bag with a couple of ice packs stacked up inside. Jared smiles at that as he folds his wet clothes, warmed in the normal way by the memory. Chad got to a point where he could sense the heat spikes coming on, immediately reaching for a cold pack to press against Jared's sweating forehead. 

_I don't think that would have worked today. _

Jared's thumbs hook the sides of his boxers, preparing to pull them down his legs when the door creaks open behind him. He's quick to stop his actions, choosing to remain facing forward instead of turning around since he's pretty sure the average dude would rather be met with this side of another dudes body, rather than a hefty package protruding into their sight. 

"Oh man, my bad. I forgot to bring you a towel before," the voice of Jensen says, getting closer with each step. 

Assuming that he's attempting to hand him the mentioned towel, Jared swings his arm back to grab aimlessly at the air for it. 

"You're lucky you didn't barge in a few seconds later," Jared replies, masking his discomfort with humour. 

Jensen clicks his tongue behind him, successfully passing the towel over, "I would say you don't leave much to the imagination from my vantage point, but I'm not looking for a sexual harassment lawsuit today." 

"I'm not worth the lawyer fees and payout?" Jared shoots back, still facing the wall and ignoring the tingling sensation blossoming at his core. 

Closer to the door now, "Without getting a few squeezes in? Not a chance," Jensen counters good-naturedly, once again leaving Jared to his privacy. 

There's something about this banter that has Jared loosening up--not nearly as stiff as he had been while he had been waiting for his interview in the first place. It's almost as if he and Jensen could potentially have a good friendship, perhaps even if he doesn't get the job here. Regardless, that's for future Jared to deal with. Right now, he needs to focus on drying himself off since he's kept Jensen waiting long enough. 

Jared hurries to get dressed following that thought, making sure to not create too many puddles with his wet clothes. It wouldn't be fair of him to leave too much of a mess for someone else to clean up if they turn down his offer to take care of it himself, which he is definitely going to insist on doing, whatever the outcome of this day ends up being. 

Now fully changed and dry, Jared exits the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He's not sure who might be around him, so he would like to be as respectful as he can possibly be. There could be someone working on something a couple of meters away for all he knows, not to mention he can hear the tapping of keys in the distance. 

Jensen appears to have been waiting for him where they left off after their handshake, working on mopping up the mess that the mixture of Jared's sweat and the water thrown onto him made during that whole fiasco. A shot of guilt halts Jared's steps for a few beats, the tension that had left his body before returning somewhat, making his movements feel heavier than they were a moment ago. 

He's quick to call out to the man, wanting to take over mopping without any acceptions. 

"What? No, dude. It's fine. I'm the one that gave you a personal _Ice Bucket Challenge, _so don't worry about it."

Jared frowns hard at that, "I don't really like other people cleaning up after my messes."

Jensen shifts his head to focus his gaze on Jared, "If you get the job here, I can promise you this won't be the first time I clean up after you." 

"What does that mean?" Jared questions, curiosity getting the better of his tongue. 

"I'm not the kind of boss that lets someone go when they make a mistake. Plenty of my staff have made a lot of them, and the best way they can learn to not do it again is by me showing them what they did wrong, and then having them practise until they get it right," Jensen answers easily, continuing to drain the soaked mop into the bucket. 

To be honest, Jared can't speak to the validity of that. He has no idea if that's uncommon practise, although he does remember a couple of Chefs being let go during his trials for very slight mess-ups. Still, it's nice to know that Jensen seems to really care about his staff, only wanting them to improve as Chefs, not adhere to his every word as if it were spoken by whatever deity they happen to associate with. 

_Now I _really _want this job. I need someone that is going to help me get better, not put me down at every turn. It's almost laughable how perfect this would be for any aspiring Chef. _

"Also, it's probably best that I tell you this now," Jensen adds, leaning on the end of the mop, "I'm, uh, just a little OCD when it comes to things like this... So, there's a chance I would come back and go over it later, had you done it, anyway." 

Nodding his understanding, Jared decides that it's best not to pry any further. He knows what people with obsessive-compulsive disorder can be like considering his Mom has been burdened with the same disorder. Personally, he's not sure how it develops. There are studies that say it can be brought on by something traumatic, which Jared supposes makes sense from a psychological standpoint, especially if that trauma involves being unclean, in the cases of Jensen and _his _Mom.

_Hell if I'm gonna ask him where it comes from, though. _

"Now that you know that, don't be surprised if you find me cleaning your station after you've just cleaned it," Jensen tacks on, finishing the last stages of the mopping process. Jared can see from where he's standing how meticulously the task was performed, wondering how Jensen managed to get that much water out of a carpet, "I'll have to leave the rest to dry for now."

"I'm so sorry, dude," Jared says genuinely. 

Jensen holds up a hand in way of response, "If you get the job, I'll take the money for a new carpet out of your wages. How does that sound?" 

_I would actually be okay with that. _

"That patch of carpet could be worth millions someday, and you're going to let it be taken away? That's bad business sense, man." 

"I guess you're right," Jensen hums, turning to walk off in the other direction. He's clearly expecting Jared to follow him, so he tags along, "Amazing how it just had to be the one part of the building with a carpet, though." 

Swallowing his guilt at that remark, Jared gives his thanks when the door to what he assumes to be Jensen's office is pushed open for him, revealing a modestly decorated room, with a rather large oak desk being the centre of attraction, accentuated by an achromatic rug resting underneath it. It's decked out with the usual additions anyone would expect to see on a desk of this nature, computer, keyboard, files, mouse and the like. Jared oddly thinks it suits the man. Not out there, nothing too extravagant. The chair looks exceptionally comfortable from what Jared can see of it. 

"Have a seat, Jared," Jensen suggests, passing him by to get to his own chair, where he gestures to the seat immediately to Jared's right. If he were to guess, Jared would say that this chair isn't normally in here, when how out of place it looks is taken into consideration. 

The chair wouldn't win any awards for the most comfortable seats by a long shot, but Jared's not going to complain. For one thing, it's really not his place to comment on it. He should just be happy that he's been given a seat, even if he would have been fine with just standing. Nevertheless, it's the right thing to do, so he takes the offered seat, smiling earnestly at Jensen once he's situated. 

Jensen spends the next few moments looking through _his_ papers, carefully reading over the entire thing. Now, that's something that Jared is completely unfamiliar with. Clearly, Jensen really doesn't want just anybody to take this position. Jared swallows dryly at this, hoping he has the _right_ information to start off on the right foot. 

"Sorry, I'm just refreshing my memory real quick." 

"Please, take your time," Jared replies warily, feigning contentment. 

Another few minutes tick by before Jensen gives him his full attention again, sitting back with his arms crossed. Jared recalls the note about his posture, checking to see if he's being too formal or too casual. The tension he feels is making it rather difficult to suss out whether or not he's leaning towards either at this point, so he takes a couple of subtle calming breaths to ready himself for what's to come next. 

"So, are you gonna drop your pants and get this started, or am I wasting my time here?" Jensen jokes, grinning broadly when Jared nearly falls off his chair at the sudden shock, "Just relax, Jared. I'm not as scary as I look, seriously." 

"I thought you weren't looking for a lawsuit today?" 

Jensen looks up thoughtfully, "Maybe seeing you ninety-per cent naked changed my mind?" 

Jared can tell that Jensen is just bantering with him again, and it has the desired effect of ridding him of the tension that he felt earlier, again. He finds himself loosening up, sitting a little less stiffly in his chair, placing his right foot over his knee and leaning into the conversation. Also, hearing these things from someone as appreciative to the eye as Jensen isn't half bad, right? 

"I knew you looked. Helen of Troy has got nothin' on me." 

"If your siren call is your ass, then sure." 

Jared lets out a hearty laugh at that, completely relaxed now. 

"All jokes aside, Jared, what would you like to get out of working here?" 

Out of all the questions that he simulated in his head when he had been practising for this, and there were a lot of them, this particular question he never thought to consider, so he literally has nothing prepared for it. In moments like these, though, he's just going to have to go for broke. Jensen seems to be the kind of person that would rather hear it from the source, instead of going around in circles. He doesn't want some rehearsed bit that would only come across as robotic. Jared senses that, almost instinctively, yet he doesn't have the slightest clue where that feeling is coming from. 

Jared tells Jensen that he wants to see what it's like to work with a close-knit, dedicated team that turns out results. He admits that he's eaten here before, and fallen in love with several items on the menu. The _Thursdays Specials _list happens to be his favourite part about this restaurant because there's always something new and interesting to try on there. Jared adds that he'd love to work in an environment that encourages innovation, and doesn't stick to a strict regime of same old, same old, something that Jensen agrees with willingly through the understanding nod of his head. He talks about wanting to bring his mental creations to life, taking advice from his peers about what direction to go in with them. He would be more than willing to offer the same in return, of course. 

"The people that I've interviewed so far have had a lot more experience than you, and are most likely objectively better Chefs than you are, Jared."

_Ouch. _

"Having said that," Jensen adds on, standing to position himself in front of Jared, "None of them fit the bill for the kind of Chefs that I employ here. They were more interested in the salary, and not working as a team to produce good food that will make the customers day. Something that I value highly over money." 

_So what does that mean?_

"I guess what I'm saying here is," Jensen continues, ready to answer Jared's thought without him having to even get the words out first. "I would rather employ a greenhorn, than some experienced Chef that thinks they're hot shit." 

Jared laughs, unable to comprehend why a man that can't be that much older than himself, is using a term like that. 

"Greenhorn?" 

Jensen scoffs indignantly, "Don't question your new boss, rookie." 

"Heaven forbid I should ever dare imply that thou--"

"I get it, I get it. Now, when I shake your hand this time, you're not gonna suddenly, uh, you know, melt, right?" 

_To be honest, I don't know. _

"Well, we could bow to each other to play it safe?" Jared suggests lamely, wondering if it would be all right for him to stand yet. 

"Maybe a fist-bump then." 

Even though Jared's is pretty sure that that had also been a joke, it's what he ended up going for. He wasn't willing to risk that happening again so soon since he's not sure what brought it on in the first place. The only thing he does know is that it had happened when they touched hands for the first time. Best to play it safe for now. 

_The last thing I need is to ruin another one of Jensen's floors. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those of you that are already reading this. I would just like to expand on why I've decided to rework this title since I kind of brushed over it in the Authors Note that I left on the original. The main problem that I had with it when I read it back through was the pacing of the whole thing. It's so... Quick, without much explanation as to how they even got from A to B. I'm the one that wrote the damn thing, and even I couldn't keep up with what was going on. It just all came across as so out of left field. They meet, Jared collapses... Jensen stands there casually watching and asks him if he has gummy bears on him? e.e.... What was I even thinking when I wrote that part?...
> 
> Oh, that's right. I was thinking about that interview when Jensen Ackles says that he really likes gummy bears, and it was so fucking adorable I felt that I just had to add it. I guess that COULD be considered realistic, but let's be rational here. It didn't make sense. It didn't make a reappearance later on, even though I was planning to make it some sort of ABO key part or whatever, not that I really remember at this point. 
> 
> Also, the interview part felt so RUDE. Like, I can't see Jared acting like that in an interview. I can't see his responses being that terse. Writing them this time around felt so much more natural for me, and I actually got into it while I was writing it. 
> 
> There were other things that I had issues with. But then what writer isn't their toughest critique? XD 
> 
> Anyway, I hope that's given you some kind of idea as to why I decided to do this if you were scratching your head over it. o/

Jensen is happy with the choice that he made today. Jared seems like he's going to fit really well into the team that he's formed over the years since he opened _The Good Kind of Ackles. _His whole plan when he began this venture was to assemble a tight group of Chefs that would essentially do or die for each other in the kitchen. That's not to say that he's expecting any of them to take a bullet for each other--it's just that he wanted people who were passionate about their food, about the customers, about their colleagues, specifically when it comes to lending someone a hand when they need it. 

Not to toot his own horn, but Jensen would like to think that he has found just that, and Jared slots right into that dynamic beautifully. Well, that's actually yet to be determined. For all Jensen knows, Jared could be like one of those dudes that someone meets on an online dating site, where they come across as amazing in their profile--in this case, the interview--, however, turn out to be completely different when it gets to the part where they sit down for dinner--dinner meaning how they perform at work--, which Jensen has personally encountered more than once during his life. 

Aside from that future problem, Jensen stands by his choice. The banter that they had with each other came easily. It flowed well seamlessly into the next line, without stopping and starting. Jensen likes to banter with his employees--even sometimes in the sexual sense. They know that he's not actually coming on to them, so he hasn't received any lawsuits as of yet, despite how he drew back to that more than once during his exchanges with Jared. 

_He's not a bad looking dude, though. That body, that ass. That's dangerous. _

Jensen isn't ashamed to admit--at least to himself--, that he couldn't stop himself from snapping a couple of mental pictures when Jared's back had been turned to him. In his defence, he's not harming anyone. Jared had been right in front of him, and he hadn't been looking in his direction. Tell Jensen that anyone with an appreciation for the male form _wouldn't_ have taken a peek, given the chance. 

Jared's attractiveness aside, Jensen understands that the man is now going to be one of his employees. He will remain professional, but maybe drink in a few looks when he can.

He's only human, after all. 

Now that he's found himself thinking, Jensen recalls that day when he saw a younger Jared devoid of conscious motion creating a decently sized puddle of sweat on the ground. The people that had been around him moments before practically ran out of the changing rooms, not even thinking to call someone to help the poor lad. 

Jensen had been a Senior when that happened. He'd been using the showers after an intense game of Football that had left him completely wrecked. All of his limbs had felt like they were about to fall off, and his head had been pounding from the few times he crashed to the ground in a heavy heap. When he saw Jared twitching on the floor, though, he forced himself to ignore that pain and dragged his feet over to the suffering boy. He'd made sure to dry himself off quickly so that he could at least get his shorts on, not wanting to run the risk of a towel falling down while he did his best to get Jared to the Nurse's office. 

He remembers trying to communicate with the Sophomore then, getting zero responses. Something told him that he should probably look for someone else to help him, but a louder voice inside said that he didn't have time for that, which had spurred him into action. His first reaction when he reached for Jared had been to flinch back from the heat somewhat stinging his flesh. Jensen had no idea how someone could be _that _hot, however, he forced himself to push through it, managing to lift Jared up off the floor so that he had been leaning against a locker. 

Jensen thinks about how he used the leverage to get Jared over his shoulder at the time. As he struggled to walk him to the Nurse's office, the only thing he could think about was the bizarre heat climbing from his shoulder up to his forehead, making him feel a little dizzy. Jensen had kept his eyes open for anyone walking by that might be able to lend him a hand, although it wasn't looking likely that anyone was about to show up out of the blue for that purpose. 

When he finally made it to the Nurse's office, he had been exhausted. Fortunately, he had enough left in him to explain what had happened from his own point of view. The Nurse didn't appear to have any idea what to do with the situation, choosing to grab anything cold to get his temperature down which she remarked on being far over the norm.

Another small detail that he remembers about that day is that when he got home that night, he had the erection from _Hell. _Jensen laughs about it now, but at the time he had been in a state of panic that his penis would never revert back to its soft state no matter how many times he brought himself to orgasm. Eventually, it did have mercy on him, and he slept like a log that night. 

Finished with his trip down memory lane, Jensen sends out an email to all the other potential candidates that had applied for the position, letting them know that it had been filled and that he would be happy to see them should another position open up in the future. This isn't a part of his job that he particularly enjoys, however, it's something that he personally prides himself on doing since he would prefer commiserations over silence, putting himself in their shoes. 

There are a couple of other things that he needs to check on his computer. Jensen reasons that those can wait for now, as he _needs_ to finish cleaning that carpet. If he's being completely honest with himself, he would have preferred to have taken care of it before the interview, but he also didn't want to leave Jared waiting any longer. Who knows how long it's going to take him to get the job done properly? 

Jensen exists his office and locates the spot where the spillage happened, assessing the area with keen eyes. He lowers himself enough to swipe his hand over the carpet, testing to see how wet it is, finding that there's a fair bit of dampness that he's going to have to take care of. 

With that in mind, he ventures to the kitchen to grab some supplies. He greets his staff with warm hellos, making sure they're all good before continuing with his task. 

_I might be here a while. _


	4. Chapter 4

Jared feels his nerves reach their pique the moment he crosses the threshold into _The Good Kind of Ackles, _which serves to slow his progress towards the staff entrance point. The restaurant isn't open for business right now, so he doesn't have to face any customers, however, that's doing nothing to quell his growing anxiety. He keeps experiencing flashbacks of his interview, as well as internal frequent reminders that this is his first _real _job as a Chef, and he's not entirely sure that he's up to the task, even though Jensen has offered him his full support on the matter. 

The fact that he'll mostly shadow his colleagues today does nothing to make him any less conscious of his inexperience. He recalls Jensen explaining to him in an email that it's going to be for the first few days, and then he'll have more freedom, which Jared can't find a fault with--he'd merely rather make his _own_ mistakes instead of messing up someone else's work if that makes sense... 

_Probably not. I'm here now, I might as well introduce myself. _

Forcing himself to shrug off his insecurities, Jared directs himself to the staff entrance, pushing the door open with partial hesitancy. The first thing he spots when he opens the door is what he can only describe as a well-oiled machine. Jensen is at the centre of it all, leading his team with confidence and care, monitoring their progress with meal prep, checking each and every kitchenware/dinnerware/cooking utensil, to ensure that they are primed for use. Jared notices the extreme attention to detail that he shows in his examinations, eyebrow rising a touch when he spots a knife that appears to have not been cleaned to his own standards. 

Jared listens to the exchange between Jensen and a fellow colleague unfold, reminded of how Jensen told him he treats his staff. He's not chewing the person out, just making them aware of it, and then briefly mentoring them on the most efficient way in which to ensure the knife is in pristine condition. 

"Never second guess yourself when it comes to cleaning your utensils, all right? A second look is always a good shout, no matter what it is," Jensen explains, slowly displaying his own techniques for achieving that ideal. Jared writes a mental note in his head as he watches, never knowing how soon he might need to draw from that in the future--if he remembers, that is. 

_They're so busy getting everything ready that they haven't even noticed I'm here... Should I clear my throat or something? Actually, that might not be the best idea being in a kitchen--I don't want them thinking that I'm sick. _

"Danny, did you get the waste report done last night?" 

The person in question, a beautiful brunette with rich, mocha brown eyes, turns towards Jensen's voice, "I did indeed. It's in your office, where it _always _is," she replies with a warm smile, continuing to check off what looks to be an itemised list. 

"Thanks, darlin'. Sometimes I wonder just where'd I'd be without you."

Danny laughs at that, focusing on her task as she responds, "We've pretty much come to a consensus that you'd be six-feet under by now." 

"Or at least with one foot in the grave," someone else chimes in to the right of him, not even bothering to glance up while they effortlessly slice what looks to be pork, separating it with pinpoint precision. 

Jensen feigns hurt, turning his back to them as he says, "I guess someone else can doll out your wages from now on then if that's your attitude towards your own boss." 

"Little does he know that one of us dug that grave for him," a man with black, quaffed hair and model-worthy looks adds from over by the chiller, marking down food-temperatures. 

"Matty, you better can that pretty mouth of yours," Jensen retaliates with a grin, moving over to give the man a poke to his side, who doesn't even flinch at the contact.

"Hands off my Matt, Jentastic."

Both men round on the speaker, mirrored expressions of exaggerated disbelief daring them to continue. Jared gathers from the next exchange that all this team does is banter with each other, whether that be insinuating that they're partners, that the other one is cheating on them, that they're all in one big love affair--Jared can't say that he knows what the Hell is going on at this point, but it's something that he can definitely get on board with. 

"All right, _Guys and Dolls, _why don't we stop acting like children and take note of the fact that we have a new arrival." 

Collectively, each person in the room regards the announcer, and then ultimately follows the direction her finger is pointing towards. They're quick to start introducing themselves, one by one. Jared learns that the lady doing the checklist is Danneel, the meat-cutter is Katie, the potential male model is Matt, the one that referred to Jensen as _Jentastic, _of all things, is Christian--he prefers Chris--, and last but not least--where the Kitchen staff are concerned--, the only one who happened to notice him standing there, is Genevieve. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Jared says earnestly, smile wide enough to have his dimples out in full force. 

Due to their immediate return to work, Jared assumes that that's the end of it, for now, so he is caught off guard when Katie comes back with, "So tell us, Jared... It is true what they say about a man with _big_ feet and hands?" 

Genevieve shoots her a look from where she's tending to the food-prep, of the vegetable variety, "Ignore her. She has some weird obsession with knowing every guy she knows dick size." 

"Spoiler alert--Jensen is clocking an impressive three inches." 

Jensen exclaims his disagreement to that, strolling over to her with his arms crossed. He says, "For your information, misses, even if I _were_ three inches, I would still be able to satisfy my sexual partners, _easy_." 

Jared observes as Jensen and Katie go back and forth, the fire behind their verbal ping-pong dwarfed by the wholly amused eye-gleams, as well as clear laugh lines lighting up their faces. In an odd way, Jared finds how they all get along with each other beautiful to watch. No one seems to be stressing out about the fact that there are about fifteen minutes left of prep time before they have to start letting customers in the door. There's just this easy-breezy atmosphere, and it's working wonders on Jared's own insecurities. 

Once Jensen is finished having a light-hearted argument with Katie, he makes an effort to approach Jared, smiling encouragingly in his direction. Jared is taken back by how utterly _stunning_ the visual before him is. He admired the man's looks during his interview, but there's something about witnessing Jensen in his natural habitat--as it were--, that elevates his good looks to the point of being worshipable by the masses. 

"How are ya' doing, Greenhorn?" 

_And then he opens with that, and I just want to laugh. _

"I'll confess that I'm feeling a little nervous, but seeing you guys joking around and having a great time is really helping." 

Jensen seems to fill with a sense of pride at that statement, briefly turning his head to take in the group he's accumulated over the years, evidently pleased beyond all measure that he was able to bring them together, perhaps that primary factor being their shared love of cooking? Jared doesn't know the answer to that. He hopes that over time, he'll learn more about these people--learn about their stories, what brought them here, what makes them gravitate towards Jensen as if he were the Earth's orbit. If he's telling the unfiltered truth, he can actually kind of see why. 

"They're a good bunch," Jensen agrees, proceeding to inform Jared that his main focus for today will be observing how exactly the team run the kitchen, and will be expected to assist in any way that they feel confident in him doing. He stresses that even though he is the owner and boss of this restaurant, there isn't a _single_ member of the kitchen staff that he wouldn't be comfortable leaving in charge in his stead, so it's vital that Jared focus all of his attention where their tutelage is concerned. 

"I'll do my best not to get in the way."

Jensen reaches out to place a hand on Jared's shoulder, squeezing comfortingly, "You'll be fine, dude. They'll look after you. Won't you, guys?" 

"Don't worry, Jarebear. I'll take _real _good care of you," came the remark from Chris, who cements his statement with a flirtatious wink. 

Jared meets the man's eyes head-on, thinking that if he wants to be a genuine part of this group someday, he's going to have to start proving that he can blend with them. This is something that he actually has a lot of experience with. Before he met Chad, Jared wouldn't realistically be able to prove that, given how the person he had been possessed virtually zero social skills, as they had all been ripped from him when this _thing _that he has took over. Of course, growing up he had been someone who was practically full of love and understanding for everyone--it's just that no one seemed to want anything to do with him as soon as his affliction came about.

Nevertheless, like with Jensen, this _is _something that he _can_ do. 

"I don't think you have what it takes to handle me, Chris," Jared jokes, giving his best sultry eyes.

* * *

Jared's shift is around four hours in now. He can't remember ever being _this _tired just from working in a kitchen for a few hours, and he's not even actively participating in the cooking part. The most that he's been allowed to do, where actual cooking is concerned, has been garnishing the already prepared dishes before they're set to go out. It's not something that he minds doing, of course. He's happy to help the team out in any way. When he's not doing that, he's soaking up as much information as he possibly can in short spurts, as they move so seamlessly from one dish to the next, never really stopping to take a breath. If anything, the reason that Jared finds himself so worn out is just watching _how _they work. 

Since traffic flow in the restaurant picked up with lunchtime calling more patrons, Matt and Danneel have had to help with running the food out, taking orders, ensuring that everyone is happy with their meals. Jensen is also out there making the rounds, giving his notes to the kitchen whenever something comes up. Most of the _notes _have just been compliments about their food, which honestly makes Jared feel warm inside, especially with how proud Jensen seems whenever he delivers the good news. There have also been a couple of occasions where Jensen has sampled a dish, the approval showing on his face as he licks his lips at the after taste. 

Jared would be remiss if he denied even to himself that the spectacle made him feel tingly. 

As the next hour ticks by, Jared tries his hardest to make himself seem useful to the rest of the team, vigorously cleaning all of the used dishes and cutlery, keeping what Jensen said earlier in mind as he does so, not wanting to subject anyone to redoing his poor handiwork. He notices that the kitchen team periodically take turns checking on him, which strangely has him feeling as though he is a part of something. 

Once he's finished with the next set of dishes, Jared calls out to anyone that is listening for the next thing to do. He's not expecting Katie to beckon him over to where she's in the middle of preparing several different deserts. Jared recognises one of them as item _nine _on the treats menu, as he's definitely guilty of ordering this one himself a few times. The mix of rocky road, brownie, ice cream, and a wafer dipped in honeycomb just does things to Jared that he's not comfortable saying out loud. 

For the following twenty minutes, Jared is shown various techniques for putting three of the ten deserts together, from how to pull off an attractive presentation, to layering the spongecake in a way that isn't too overwhelming for the tastebuds. Jared gets excited when Katie asks him if he'd like to give it a shot, immediately getting to work trying to reimagine what she did moments before. He does make a few mistakes, which Katie patiently instructs him on how to correct, using the same approach that Jensen employed when it came to proper cleaning techniques. She's not reprimanding him or highlighting his inexperience. Instead, Katie is encouraging him to get it right, and it's working. Jared feels more confident by the end of their short lesson, thanking her for easing him into it. 

Katie points out that it's not always going to be this laid back. There will be occasions when no one has time to watch over him, and he'll be basically left to his own devices. Jared promises that he'll be ready when that time comes, not wishing to hold anyone back. She seems to beam at that, however, kindly remarks that even in those times there will _always _be someone that is more than willing to assist if he should _absolutely_ need it. They just prefer to let people learn from their own mistakes since it's more likely that they will gain more from trial and error, something Jared wholeheartedly agrees with. 

When lunchtime ends, a lull in traffic flow sweeps over the restaurant. The room breathes a collective sigh of relief, taking a moment to stretch kinks out of their bodies. Jared finds himself doing the same, almost feeling their exhaustion as though he were an empath. Now that things have died down, the air is less tense with a sense of conviction and hard work. That's not to say that the team isn't still putting their best foot forward, they're just enjoying the breathing room while they can. 

"So, Jared, I can't tell you how glad I am that you joined the team," says Genevieve, smiling in his direction. 

Matt laughs as if he knows something the rest of the room doesn't while he cleans the sides, he mentions, "She doesn't mean it _that way_, man. She's just happy that Jensen will cook for us tonight."

Jared raises an eyebrow in confusion, completely out of the loop. He asks, "What does me joining have to do with that?"

From the opposite end of the kitchen, Danneel is the one to answer without halting her task of chopping up carrots, "Whenever someone new is hired, Jensen cooks for everyone. It's a delicious form of initiation, I suppose." 

"Which means we'll be out of here dead on six so that he can start prepping," Chris adds, looking like he literally cannot wait. 

Jared wonders if he sounds like an idiot when he says, "Is his food _really _that good?" 

"Jensen's food makes my dick hard. Yeah, that's right. I said it," explains Chris, not the least bit ashamed. 

"A gust of wind makes your dick hard, so that's not doing Jensen's cooking justice at all," Danneel counters airily, rolling her eyes at his flipping of the bird. 

Katie hums to the left of Jared, seemingly in serious thought, "If I were to put Jensen's cooking into words... Okay, remember that time in your life where you just had the worst day of your life, everything sucks, and all you want to do is crawl into a hole and die?" 

_Uh... Where is she going with this? _

"Sure,... Yeah. Why?" Jared questions sheepishly. 

Unperturbed, Katie ventures on, "Right? So then let's say your parent's notice that you're not doing so good, so they decide that they'll make your favourite meal, and when you have that first bite, it's so filled with love for you that you find yourself crying tears of joy while you eat piece by piece, savouring every single moment--and once it's all gone... You wish you could go back to the start." 

Jared's licking his lips just thinking about that. 

A small silence falls over the room as they each reflect on Katie's summary of Jensen's cooking prowess, momentarily jaded by the fact that there's still another two hours to go before then. Jared finds himself asking why six o clock while he remembers it, which is met with a chorus of "_he shuts the restaurant early especially for this", _which Jared can only nod along to, wondering what Jensen might make for them all. He's not sure if he's sampled his cooking already since he's eaten here several times before, but he has a feeling that Jensen doesn't spend as much time in the kitchen as he used to with all the other responsibilities he has owning a restaurant. 

"Seriously, Jarebear, get ready to cream your pants." 

Matt clears his throat, "Not _everyone_ is like you, Chris." 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get better at showing vs telling, so if you recognise a different style in this chapter, I'm sorry if it takes you away from the story. This isn't new for me, I try to develop my writing as I go--again, I am sorry if this upsets anyone. :x 
> 
> Also, sorry this is a little late. Dx

A mix of faces filter through Jared's field of vision. Some kindle a spark of recognition. _Some_ leave him wondering. The faint hum of music struggles to penetrate the conversation-rich atmosphere, left to sing unnoticed, while an air of anticipation looms over the table, ravenous hunger apparent in eyes of many, laced with a practised resilience. His chair scrapes along the floor, allowing Jared better accommodation, joints sliding outwards in approval. A bemused smile graces his features as he takes in the rare nature of his current situation, baffled by his continued fortune. 

Chris's voice climbing over the litany of sounds filling the air drags Jared back to moments before six o clock. Determination had been exuding from Chris's body, spurred on by the gradual ticks of the clock approaching clean down time. His lips had stretched, eyes gleaming as he cried out over the symphony of active cooking appliances that the time had come. The meaning behind his exclamation had provoked his colleagues into action, previous tasks left forgotten. Jared had been compelled to join the fray, securing whatever had been asked of him during the rushed bid to prepare the kitchen for Jensen's arrival. 

Jared slides his finger along the spot where Jensen's hand had rested atop his shoulder, reminded of the man's recommendation that he hold off on his gratitude until he'd sampled _his_ food. 

_Why are talented people always so modest?... _

"Jack, weren't you supposed to see your girl, tonight?" 

Jared's head whips towards the voice, taking note of the speaker's olive-toned skin and chocolate brown eyes. A scan to his right identifies _Jack,_ who's eyebrows furrow at the question, reverting back to their natural state with uninhibited ease. 

"She understands. Trust me."

"Some things are more important, right?" 

Jack regards the door, a feral glint flickering in the smooth sea-esque nature of his irises, darkening their depths, "Truer words have never been spoken." 

"She's probably jealous that she can't join us."

"The way I talk about it when I see her next time, it wouldn't surprise me if she tried to take my _job_ away from me." 

"Okay, listen, I don't approve of a guy ditching his girlfriend just to eat their boss's food, but I will make an exception for this," a feminine voice interjects, ebony skin enhanced by work-attire, its crimson design matching her shimmering lipstick. 

"What about the staff that weren't scheduled to be here today?" Jared finds himself asking before he can help it. 

"I feel sorry for them, is all I'm gonna say to that," she replies, sympathy carrying her tone. "I'm Megan, by the way. I work the front desk, taking reservations and handling the general goings-on during the day. I suppose you could _also_ call me a manager." 

"I've seen you a few times before when I came here to eat. You're always so nice, and it's _completely_ your fault that I ended up paying for a three-course meal when I had planned to have just a light salad that day," Jared replies playfully, the corners of his eyes pulled, yet relaxed. 

Satisfaction radiates through her words. 

"Honey, if ya'll had the time, I'd have made sure you were even more stuffed than _that_ before you went home for the night. Anyway, since these charming individuals aren't going to introduce themselves properly, I'll give you the rundown of who you're sitting with, excluding our amazing kitchen staff, of course--"

"Um, excuse me, Megpie, I take offence to being _excluded_ from anything," Chris intones, pulled briefly from his conversation with Katie, who laughs at his indignation. 

"Just for that, I'm _excluding _you from the _amazing _kitchen staff, Chrissy." 

"We'll see how you feel about that when Thursday's Specials rolls around, sweetheart." 

Megan proceeds as though he'd never said anything. 

"So you heard Martinez throw Jack's name around earlier. Those two mostly run food. You may have seen them going in and out of the kitchen from time to time. They also help out on the bar when it's busy, even though they're slower than a fly that can't find its way out of your house--"

"Excuse you. I run circles around that bar," Martinez declares, his country of origin accentuating his words. 

"Please, Harriet would beg to differ, boy."

"She's not wrong," Harriet concurs, hair caught between her fingers, "You boys really could be faster. Kegan has been here less than three months, and he's already quicker than you guys." 

"Not to mention his main role is seating people," Megan clarifies, glancing up briefly before getting back on track, "So anyway, Harriet, Jasmin, Asher and Rene are the bar staff. They run food if the bar isn't heaving, and the boys could use an extra couple pairs of hands. Sadly, Asher and Rene aren't here tonight, so I know I'm gonna be gettin' some jealous texts tonight... Oh, and Derek and Carly take food orders." 

"Thanks for referring to me as an afterthought, Sis," Carly comments two seats down, leaning around Harriet to make eye contact possible. 

"Baby, y'all know I love you," Megan replies, blowing her a kiss. 

"Also, Jared, we do _more _than just take food orders, so that you know."

Drawn into the minefield of unique conversations, Jared's knowledge of the people that surround him expands with each new addition to their untold stories, metaphorically edging him closer and closer to the table. Megan's aura brightens as she gushes about Carly's hidden potential where music is concerned, championing her awe-inspiring skills with a piano. Carly's reaction to the praise conjures up an image of her timidly approaching a grand piano, brought to life the moment her eager fingers administer the first keystroke to a song. Descriptions of her musical prowess leave Jared longing to experience the spectacle for himself. 

As Jared analyses the physical traits of his colleagues, his lips purse. Could this be a coincidence, or achieved through careful selection? The idea of Jensen hiring people just for progressive points puts a bad taste in Jared's mouth, although that's a tough pill to swallow when he flicks his eyes around the table, taking in the two persons of colour, a Mexican, someone who Jared thinks could possible be transgendered--there's not a snowballs chance in Hell that he's going to ask--, a very good mix of men and women. If his sexuality is taken into account, then there's also _at least_ one gay person, too. 

Putting that to the back of his mind, for now, Jared listens as Kegan talks about how he failed his last driving test. In between the giving him the business, Jack, Harriet and Megan offer him some advice on what to do next time, reminding him of their own horror stories when they had been learning to drive. Laughter fills the air as Harriet describes the time her driving instructor set up the cones for her route, and she somehow managed to knock each and every one of them over. She said that she went from freaking out to not even giving a damn anymore with each cone that hit the ground in her rearview. 

While Jared opened his ears to Danneel's plans for her trip to the Bahamas, his focus drifts towards a louder voice, enticed by the urgency of their declaration of the food being ready. Immediately following this, whisps of seductive steam pour in through the liberating gaps becoming wider and wider as the kitchen doors unleash an array of tantalising aromas into the room. Mouths water, stomachs vibrate with a need to be satisfied, reaching a crescendo as the source of their unbridled voracity draws closer to the now silent group. Jared's stomach pulses with a tender heat, compelled by the various mixtures of intoxicating scents assaulting his nose from one key angle. 

_That's just from the smell of it. _

"Dinner is served, folks."

Jensen's announcement incites vigorous cheers of approval, knives and forks settling between eager hands before the food greets the table. Chris jumps up at the chance to assist in brightening up the table with each unique dish, his eyes darting left and right, caught between a figurative rock and a hard place with every plate that grips his attention next. Jared watches his body twitch with anticipation, sucked in by the unending smile becoming a permanent fixture on his face since the start of the day. As the last plate reaches its destination, a flurry of hands reach out without shame, in between copious gratitude for the man who made them, as he starts his journey back to the kitchen. 

A fleeting back leaves Jared's attention after a split second, once again becoming a prisoner to the haunting cries of the food set out in front of him. He pays each and every last one his full mind, torn piece by piece until he forces himself to get stuck in, securing samples from all different parts of the world, beautifully presented. Jared eyes his full plate wearily, his mouth begging him to start eating. He doesn't know why his hands hesitate, raising his fork partially to then clink against the tabletop. Something about the cacophony of provocative flavours freezes him in place, stripping him of his usual demeanour, becoming nothing more than a slave to his primal instincts as his fork stabs through the elegant curls of spaghetti, twisting with unabashed persistence until a plump, layered spiral envelopes it, primed for eating. 

Jared's Adam's apple bobs as the food creeps nearer to his mouth, his tongue lathing over moist lips, thrumming with an incessant need to taste that which floats mere inches from its destination. A mild spice sizzles on his tongue first, followed by a hint of salmon and tuna, made more apparent as his teeth break through the pasta, allowing the traces of garlic to intermingle with the rest of the group, Jared's cheeks lightly flushing from the tepid heat travelling through his system. 

The spellbinding morsel slides down his throat with conviction, a pleasant sigh passing his lips. His hand aches with the need to prepare another bite, however, locks in place. He wipes his idle hand across his forehead, coming back with a light sheen of sweat. His heart beats against his rib cage, climbing to an uncomfortable tempo that rocks his frame. Jared shoves his chair back, running without a word towards the kitchen doors. He has one destination in mind as he charges through them, darting to his left, unaware of the other presence in the room, as they zero in on him in wonderment. 

His hand shakily clasps the handle, wrenching it open with a determined might, closing himself inside. Darkness engulfs his vision. The hairs around his body stand rigid in the confined space, unseen puffs of frost-bitten air dispersing around him, competing with the viscous heat spreading from his core. 

_Please just go away. _

A crack of light breaks through the darkness before it dominates the room with its glow. Jared's body protests at his sudden twist, shivering hands rising to shield unprepared eyes from the merciless rays. His name being called out time and time again fends off the buzzing in his ears. Through the haze, he recognises the voice of Jensen attempting to usher him out of the freezer, hands that want to help him pressing against his shoulders with a resolute will. He moves closer to _it_, relinquishing what little control he has over to _it_, wanting to believe in _it_. 

The door aligns with his back on the outside, kept there by Jensen's unwavering hands. His heart steadies its assault on his body, lowering with each promise that he will get through this. Every fibre of his being wants to firmly agree, but it's silenced by the sporadic spikes of nausea-inducing waves of heat barrelling through his system, once again buckling his knees. Jensen's strong figure prevents his descent to the ground, steadying him against his frame, stiff arms determined to keep them afloat. 

Jared's vision blurs, his hands cradling his head, eyes squinting from turbulent throbs. The event of his interview reels through his mind, seeming trivial compared to the sickening pangs of violent heat burning through his nerves. Salt touches his lips. He feels the beads of sweat cascading down his face, wishing he could clear them. A soft cloth answers his prayers, cleaning him with gentle strokes. Through the fog in his minds-eye, Jared struggles to make out Jensen's soft words of encouragement, coated with trepidation. 

_Stop... Please. Just stop... It hurts. I don't want Jensen to worry about me. _

"Jared? Come on, Greenhorn, snap out of it."

Jared's feet drag behind him. Jensen balances their combined weights as he accesses the chiller, a breath punched out of him as they fall hard against the ground. Fear penetrates the haze before a bitten-off curse washes it away until Jared recognises the position that they're in for the first time, the pressure from Jensen's crotch prodding against his own, which brings forth an unrelated wave of heat. 

His rapid heartbeat slows to a natural halt, his body no longer burdened by the throngs of tempestuous heat that had him immobilised. 

"Do you feel better?" 

Raising his head to meet Jensen's eyes, Jared nods once, mouth somewhat agape after the ordeal, "Thank you for your help, but are _you _okay?" 

Jensen scoffs at his question, lips pulled into a wide smile, "Never been better. I always knew we'd end up like this one way or the other," he comments with a waggle of his eyebrows, which provokes a round of laughter from Jared. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling a bit better now, so I made sure I got this done before I went to bed. Well, I could have gotten it out earlier, but you know what happens when you watch one video on YT, and then another one pops up, and then it's been seven hours and you ask yourself what you did to be productive today... What did you CONTRIBUTE to society today? Basically nothing... 
> 
> But, I did post this. So... Progress, right? 
> 
> Anyway, TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER, as there will be subtle mentions of sexual abuse as a child. The topic itself disgusts me to my core, but it fit the narrative that I had going for Jensen's own psychology in this, so... Yeah. Going down that road. 
> 
> I'm glad I didn't leave you waiting too long. :)

Jared's eyes slide shut as a warm glow of light invades his room, eyes creasing from the tension, blocked out moments later as soft cotton cradles his face. He winces, body writhing in small instances, longing for a soothing bath. His legs kick at his covers, revealing more of his nude form, sticky with sweat. The thought that he should make his way to the shower has his legs locking in place. With some effort, Jared's eyes face the ceiling once more, while keeping the morning sun at bay.

Ringing to his right alerts him that he cannot spend his whole day in bed, provoking his head to remind him of yesterday's events. He recalls the lethal heat. He protests the stirring in his loins at the end of the spectacle, wishing that the ground might mercifully swallow him whole. That whole fiasco has him more ashamed than he had been before, as he contemplates quitting his job before the same thing happens again, regardless of how that scenario solidified its place in his fond memories. 

_It doesn't help when Jensen says things like knowing we'd end up like that... _

The man enjoys a _good joke_. That much Jared can tell without being the butt of it. His personal fantasies aside, he understands that adding a name to those actions would complicate things between them, despite how giddy they leave him. Having Jensen pressed so close to him brought on a separate kind of heat that stole his breaths, urging him to cling a little tighter than necessary. 

When the dust had settled, they had worked together to get back on their feet. An air of _something _hung over them as they bounced off each other, however, Jared lacked the same bravado he prided himself on during his interview. Jensen's features changed for him after that. He started to experience each detail in a brand new light, as though it were its own motion picture, a masterclass of how to craft a living, breathing adonis. 

His brows furrow as he lines the two spectacles up in his mind, going over them with a fine-toothed comb. The two scenarios share a link in Jensen, for he had been present in some way during his episodes. Jared can't put his finger on whether or not that could be important, though he wishes that he had the power of foresight, that would enable him to find out for himself. 

Unlike the first time, Jensen had not been around at the beginning. In fact, Jared reflects on the image of Jensen's retreating back being the last clear visual in his mind before the man coaxed him back to the real world, once again saving him from the gruelling heat. Jensen had fended off his apologies, assuring him that he would always be happy to help, which had Jared's heart perform a small flutter in his chest. 

Jared's cheeks redden and his throat longs for water. He shrugs off the protests from his body as his feet meet the welcome chill of the floor. Subtle creaks echo in the small room. At the top of the stairs, Jared fills his lungs, taking each step with caution. His shoulder falls against the banister twice during his descent. Holding back his cries does nothing to dull the ache, his determination to quench his first keeping him upright. 

The tap roars to life when he reaches the sink, enjoying the cooling effect that it has on his tepid flesh. He snatches a glass from the draining board, filling it with water and raising it up to his lips. The refreshing water brings his temperature down as it travels to his stomach. Jared pours three more before his glass clinks in the sink, abandoned. His shoulders quake as the countertop creaks under the pressure, not prepared to support his weight. 

_It used to hurt the next day... But never like this. What is happening to me?_

A rapid knock distracts him from his thoughts, luring him towards the urgency behind its intention. He manages to call out to whoever stands beyond his door, steadying himself against the smooth timber as his hand finds refuge around the handle, lowering it enough to let the outside breeze sneak in. 

"Who is it?" Jared questions, holding his body away from the small gap created, aware of his natural state. 

"Don't worry, _Sir_, I promise I'm not here to sell you anything." 

Before he can stop it, the skin of his neck tingles as Jensen's voice seduces his ears. Blinking to better make out the silhouette, Jared's heart beats its approval, encouraging him to eliminate the barrier keeping them apart. With as much energy as he can muster, Jared hushes those desires, packing them away in an unmarked box inside his head. 

"What are you doing here?" 

"Oh, sorry. Do you have company over?" 

A touch more of Jensen's miraculous visage shifts into focus, Jared's rebellious eyes drinking in every detail without preamble. His fingers tighten against the door handle, light pain able to be felt down to the bone. Jared shakes his head now that Jensen can partially see him, struggling to regain his ability to speak as the man's presence messes with his synapses, enhancing the screaming need welling up inside him. 

"Okay... Well, can I come in?" Jensen's shirt lifts as he leans against the doorjamb, the scent of cedarwood tickling Jared's nose. "Everyone was really worried when you left last night." 

Jared's fingers flex with a desire to let Jensen in, fighting to bypass his own control. His chest tightens with each second he refuses to submit to their will, pulled left and right internally, torn between what choice he should make, given the circumstances. Logically, he should distance himself as much as possible, until he can turn back the clock on his heart, for this sudden itch to ingratiate himself to Jensen makes little to no sense. The entirety of their interactions can't have conjured a longing such as he feels right now, scared to envision what might become of it should he lower his defences. 

Fate chooses for him, opting to evade his hesitancy in favour of observing how this moment between them plays out. Pain flares around his coccyx, followed by a sharp thump to the back of his head, leaving the room spinning. Jared misses the door opening and shutting in quick succession, a stable body attempting to pull him into a sitting position. 

"Excuse my hands," Jensen says, his words but a whisper, mixed with a slight tremble. Jared registers weight at the back of his head, comforted by the support. "Do you need me to call a Doctor?" 

"No," Jared clips, willing the blur of his vision to clear.

"Are you hot? Do you need me to grab some ice? By the way, I'm all for freeballing in the house, and while it's definitely not an unwelcome sight by any means, I could have been the mailman when this happened." 

_Why do you say things like that?... I know you're just saying shit to lighten the mood... But, dude... _

Jared shakes his head again, allowing himself to lean more against Jensen's chest, succumbing to his own exhaustion, "It wouldn't be the first time." 

"Well, he's a _lucky_ guy," Jensen replies, a tightness to his tone Jared doesn't recognise. 

"I appreciate you coming all this way to fire me in person. Being absent on your second day isn't a good look, right?" 

"Don't be ridiculous, Greenhorn. If I fired someone every time they left puddles of their sweat all over my nice floors, I wouldn't have a team left to run." 

Jared's lips stretch, a pleasant warmth blossoming in his belly. If Jensen had been anyone else, he fully believes that he wouldn't have a job to go back to. People don't hand out second chances so lightly, and Jared's not sure that he proved his worth enough to qualify for one. It has his heart thrumming a gleeful tune, astounded by his unwavering luck where it counts. How long will this fortune of his last?

Only time will give him an answer. 

* * *

Jensen slumps against the wall, arcing his legs around Jared's loose form, careful not to disturb the man's position. Bare flesh cushioned by his clothed body awaken salacious thoughts that he fights to keep under-wraps, avoiding an unwanted erection. He understands that the time for _that way of thinking_ exists under different circumstances, not when the person of his attraction sleeps peacefully on his person. 

Self-restraint aside, Jensen would be lying if he said witnessing Jared in all his glory was not a _welcome_ sight. 

Before he found himself in this situation, Jensen had planned to check in on Jared, find out exactly what had been wrong with him, wish him the best of health, and then head back to the restaurant. That _had _been his plan when he left Danneel in charge moments before he put his plan into action, however, forces beyond his own control have left him with little choice than to tend to his ailing colleague. 

Forces that are not bound in reality. His instincts, _instincts _he knew nothing of, to begin with, are perpetuating this idea that he _needs _to protect Jared as if the notion would be pointless to refute. Jensen can't recall _ever_ having this kind of unsettling pressure to ensure someone else's safety. 

The rational side of his brain falls short in convincing him that he should get Jared to a place of comfort, and then check back in on him later, when he doesn't have other things to do, like run a business. Which Jensen would love to agree with, except the irrepressible desire to see this through to the end roots him where he sits. 

A whiff of the air wrinkles Jensen's nose, informing him that Jared could use a shower when he has the energy to get through one. It would be inappropriate to wash the man of his stink without him being conscious, so Jensen endeavours to pretend the odour exists in his subconscious, and not in the real world, where it can invade his nasal passages. 

He turns his head to the left, noting a door that leads _somewhere _and a kitchen further along. Not being close enough to reach the handle, Jensen shuffles himself and Jared along the floor until his arm extends, hand curling around brass, pulling downwards until the latch _clicks_, and the door rotates with idle intent, coming to a stop once it _thuds_ against a hollow surface. 

Jensen inclines his head enough to see the room, relieved when a baby-blue couch aligns with his vision. With his target set, Jensen sucks in a few breaths. He peels himself away from Jared, one hand securing his head as he positions himself. Jensen curls one arm around a taut back, deft fingers bearing down at the middle, showing a large amount of restraint as his other arm pushes underneath Jared's sprawled knees, gathering his two bottom appendages along his brachium. Prepared to lift, Jensen presses the soles of his shoes onto the linoleum and initiates his ascension, raising Jared up off the ground with an air of grace. He steadies himself, legs accustoming to the added weight while he tinkers with his hold until Jared's hair splays over his shirt. 

He fills his lungs with more air, the tension in his body easing somewhat. Jared's soft breaths tickle his neck as he moves both of them into the next room, remaining cautious due to the extra pressure on his legs. Had Jared been awake, this could have been somewhat easier, but Jensen refuses to dwell on parallel universes. The additional force required to walk towards the couch burdens the muscles in his legs, his extremities groaning in silent protest at each step he takes.

_I might need to start going to the gym more than twice a week if this is gonna be my life from now on. _

At the foot of the couch, Jensen exercises an inordinate amount of resistance that has his arms screaming for an end to their torment as he lowers Jared onto the couch, propping his head up on a convenient cushion before releasing his own arms from the weight sinking them into malleable leather. 

Jensen allows himself a moment to admire Jared's sleeping form. His sleeping... Nude form. The room spins, and he faces the exit. As much as the pubescent teenager in his mind with zero understanding of _not the time _wants nothing more than to rub one out where he stands, he will not be _that _person. 

Deciding that he should wait elsewhere while Jared rests, Jensen drags himself to the kitchen, a glass of water the first thing on his mind. Hoping that Jared won't have a problem with it, he pours himself a tall glass of water, gulping it down in seconds, a short _ahh _emphasising his refreshment. 

A toppled glass in the sink draws his eyes. 

_I don't think anyone would care if I washed their glass up, especially if I'm about to wash my own. _

Jensen executes his thought, being thorough with his cleaning, careful not to leave any soap suds as he dries them with a tea-towel. He sweeps his eyes over the room as he washes his own hands, accounting for six different cupboards. Not knowing which holds the glasses, he tests each until he finds the correct one, placing them on the bottom shelf with delicate movements. 

An expletive prepares itself on the end of his tongue, his lips tightening. He moves with careful precision, turning into Jared's living room, eyes scanning for something that he could use. Nothing catches his attention, so he surveys Jared's house, checking room after room. In the bedroom, Jensen gathers up a dishevelled blanket, returning to Jared's side soon after, where he drapes it over the man's _nude _body. 

_Now he at least has his decency... If I ignore him literally answering the door in his Birthday suit. _

Jensen fidgets, the quiet grating on his nerves. Standing around doing nothing has no place in his day to day life. His fingers twitch, itching to be useful. From his unaccompanied tour of Jared's house, Jensen came across a room with several different cleaning supplies that he _could _put to good use. He would be helping out... Who doesn't want someone to clean their house from top to bottom, leaving no stone unturned? 

He frowns, head shaking. 

_I'm sure he's a clean dude. He did a great job cleaning stuff in the kitchen... There were a few I had to go over, but it was fine for his first time. On the other hand, he does stink, and he has been walking around the house with sweaty feet. So I could _at least _mop the floors... maybe put some disinfectant down if he has some--maybe use bleach if he doesn't. Not the store brand stuff, though. I'm not using that cheap shit that claims to do everything a recognised brand name can do for a better price but actually pales in comparison. No, fuck that. On the other-other-hand, it would be weird to clean his house. His whole house... It wouldn't be like I was robbing him... Or moving his furniture around. Everyone loves a clean house. There's nothing wrong with a clean house--there's nothing wrong with things being clean. But... Then again, there's _nothing _wrong with something being a little dirty.... either. _

_"There's nothing wrong with this, Jensen."_

Jensen stiffens. 

_"Boys were made to be worshipped by women."_

Revulsion ripples along his body, the need to do _anything _guiding his movements as he rushes to Jared's closet, filling his arms with as many supplies as he can carry in one trip. 

_"So let me do that for you. Okay, Jensen?"_

Nimble fingers tremble as they grip a soaked cloth, wringing it for all its worth. 

_"You understand, right? You understand that this is okay?" _

Squeaks climb in volume around the kitchen, no surface ignored in Jensen's vigorous cleansing, tired arms begging for a rest. 

_"Y_ _ou're a big, strong boy, and I'm here to show you my appreciation."_

He squeezes the trigger of the spray bottle, watching the chemicals gush onto a window, blocking out the subtle reflection of his face. It shields the truth. It shields the reality of the tension in his cheeks, lips, eyes, chin. It prevents him from seeing his own _disgust_. 

_"The omega to your alpha."_

Drenched, coarse strings of yarn pivot left and right, bashing into sturdy structures in its wake to spread disinfectant across every millimetre of the linoleum, wiping away the filth. Sunlight streaming in through glass panes on the door bounces off the glossy surface, alleviating a modicum of his anxiety. 

_"Let me touch you? Okay, beautiful boy?" _

It won't go away until he cleanses all the dirt and grime from this house. He knows it. He accepts it.

He can't help but _need _to. 

It _will _make him feel _clean _again. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that not a lot of people are reading this, but I really don't care. I made a promise to get this done, so regardless of its lack of traction, I will see it through to the end. 
> 
> I've adapted the pacing for this chapter because I felt that the paragraphs have been too wordy and cluttered. This felt a lot smoother for me to write, as well as read back through. 
> 
> For those of you that are reading this, I hope that you enjoy the latest chapter. 
> 
> Have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening/night. <3

Jared's closed eyes dart in each direction, images of places and objects projected into his mind, distorted by a blanket of darkness. He feels his awareness returning in the form of his senses, detecting sounds of vigorous scraping emitting from somewhere near. 

The part of him that wanted to remain trapped in his own dream world intended to defy reality from dragging him back to its realm, flooding his mind with technicoloured imagery of his own thoughts and desires. 

In order to win the battle of his consciousness, the darkness increased its envelopment of Jared's dreams, forcing them back with a renewed conviction at their initial resistance, securing the win. 

Jared's eyes open in their own time, taking in the stark white of the ceiling hanging overhead. He blinks the last remnants of sleep away, sinking back into the couch. 

_How did I get _here? 

Jared rises to a sitting position, hand coming to his forehead from the sudden action. His blanket meets his gaze from below, covering the lower half of his body. Frowning, Jared grips the side and pulls it over, rising to his feet off his couch.

A light hue of red tints his cheeks, and he resists the urge to use pillows to cover his likeness. 

_Jensen must have put me there. How long has it been? _

He steps forward with warranted hesitance, pleased with his ease of movement. The revelation imbues his steps with revitalised confidence that take him all the way to the bottom of the stairs, where he stops to take a breath. 

_To think I could have woken up here earlier... _

Thoughts of his potential broken bones aside, Jared readies himself to start his ascension when shimmering out of the corner of his eye pulls his focus, making a note of his floors glistening in a way that he has yet to ever witness them do since he moved in here.

He's no slouch when it comes to the upkeep of his house, but what would it have taken to have them reflect his face back at him? 

Jared has no clue. 

_Did Jensen do this? _

He keeps up a stream of apologies in his head, aware of the sweat and dirt on his feet marring Jensen's assumed hard work as he stomps up the stairs, the scraping growing in intensity with each step he clears. The nature of it compels him to increase his advance. 

At the top, Jared strides to his room, snatching a pair of briefs to cover his privates, recalling his previous interaction with Jensen. There's a good chance the man got a good eyeful, so it would paint him in a better light if he at least removed that factor, denoting the idea that he's a nudist. Jared shakes his head at that, mirth guiding his lips to stretch.

Refocusing his attention, Jared hurries towards the source of the scraping sound, drawn to his bathroom.

When he enters the room, he sees Jensen standing on the left side of his sink, brushing the bottom of the faucet with enthusiasm, lips pulled tight, and eyes unyielding from their point of focus. 

Jared wonders if he should say something, words caught in his throat. He can see Jensen's shoulders are rigid, plagued by something Jared can't unpack right now.

What could have happened while he was asleep to have Jensen cleaning his house?... He would be lying if he said that he didn't appreciate it, odd as it may be. If someone wants to clean his house from top to bottom, who would he be to get in the way of that? 

Something about this seems _different, _though, as Jared watches the subtle twitches of Jensen's hands, equating it to a form of stress without understanding _how_ he drew that conclusion. His instincts are telling him that the man must be struggling with something, an unknown force that Jared can't make heads or tails of, even if he wants to. 

_What does someone do in this situation? Ask the person why they're cleaning their house? Or maybe open with a joke, lighten the mood, and then see if they want to talk about whatever is bothering them? Jensen does like to joke a lot, so that might be the best approach to take. It's just that something tells me that in this state of mind, he won't even hear me... _

A spike of anxiety crawls up his back, stealing a breath.

Jared feels pale, unsure of where that came from. He knows that he feels fine. That much he can be certain of at this point, so it begs the question as to where this bout of fear and anguish hails from.

The hairs on Jared's arms rise with the increase in its intensity, the bristles of the toothbrush approaching levels of nails on a chalkboard, forcing Jared to cover his own ears, fighting off the onslaught of bodily repulsions. 

He has no choice but to do something here. A sign would be nice, but he abandons the chance of that happening as soon as it enters his mind. Signs have never helped him in the past, so hanging on to that belief will do him no good now.

Best to live and let live. 

Jared straightens, lowering his hands from his ears. He breathes in deep, hoping the intake will give him the courage he needs to close the gap between himself and Jensen, however, taking that step feels as though it takes longer than it actually does.

He pushes forward once the cold of the tiles rises to his ankles, and places his hand on Jensen's shoulder. 

Jensen's hands _stop_, and plastic bounces off the porcelain in the sink. His head turns, eyes clouded over with an ominous smog that fills Jared's soul with unfounded worry for the man. Vacant portals continue to stare back as if Jared were transparent.

Bile rises in Jared's throat, burning as it returns to his stomach. 

"Jensen... Dude, are you okay?" 

Jared imagines a dark cloud passing over Jensen's head when the light manifests in his eyes again as his furrowed brows relax back to their natural state, and a tight jaw unlocks, smoothing out. Jared finds the transformation baffling, perplexing him. 

_What is going on here?..._

Jensen brings his hand to the back of his neck, pausing before he makes contact, "Your, uh... Your sink was kinda... dirty..," he says, moving in front of the sink to wash his hands. 

Not buying that as the reason for that _sheer _amount of scrubbing for one second, Jared opts to let it slide, "I thought it spit in your cereal or something from the way you were going to town on it," he jests, handing Jensen a towel. 

"Thanks," Jensen takes it from him, drying his hands, "It wouldn't be attached to the wall if it did that," he adds with a smile, passing it back. 

Jared hangs it back on the wrack, contemplating what he wants to say next. This tension has him on edge. It has him feeling claustrophobic, and small spaces have never been a problem for him. In his own bathroom, in his own house, he feels cornered. Not because of Jensen. Perhaps in part, but not completely. Jensen has this chink in his armour that awakens strong desires in Jared to rid him of it as if doing so will restore his own depleting state of mind. 

_I hope what I'm about to say doesn't make this worse than it already is... _

"So you're _a little _OCD, huh?" 

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Jared wishes he could reach forward and take them back. He tried not to come across as condescending, that much he will swear on. Sometimes nerves can change the tone of his words, and he can end up unintentionally upsetting people. 

Jensen has no reaction to his question. His shoulders remain down, relaxed. His lips stay naturally closed, an open expression, in tune with his eyes, that have not changed their position as if oblivious. The rest of Jensen's body has a neutral stance. Zero animosity or annoyance detected.

Maybe what he said is fine? Jared wishes, preparing himself for whatever will come next. 

"_A little _may have been an understatement," Jensen says, glancing off to the side. He appears frustrated. Not with Jared. With himself, looking as though he wants to run away, however, willing to push forward, "Let's just say _events _happened in my past... I developed PTSD, and OCD fell in line with it," he closes his eyes, hard, "Cleaning helps me cope. I'm sorry I worried you." 

Jared's mind inundates with a multitude of questions that he could ask at this moment, choosing to quash them. It would not be right for him to start firing off personal questions that Jensen owes him no answers to. The right course of action here would be to offer his support, ensure Jensen that he need not beat himself up over this, and move on with their day. 

If Jensen wants to open up to him in the future, then that will be entirely his decision. 

Jared does just that.

* * *

Danneel sighs, cupping her face in her hands. She sniffs as she pushes her hair over her shoulders, flicking her eyes over to the computer screen. Tight fingers abuse the keyboard, mashing away the shipping emails and waste reports, aware that she could be out to dinner with Genevieve right now having a few drinks. 

She has no problem with Jensen leaving her in charge in his stead, but she _does _have a problem with him ignoring her messages for the entire day. 

_Where is he?... _

Everyone at the restaurant expressed their concern for his and Jared's well-being several times throughout the day, and she had no idea what to tell them. The more they fussed over whether or not the two of them were okay, the deeper her own fears for them grew. 

_You selfish assholes. _

Part of her wants to leave all of this _work _for _him _to do when he shows his _stupid _face. That would put the restaurant in trouble, though, so despite her lust for rebellion, she'll finish _his _job for him. 

_You could have at least texted me back or answered my calls... What am I going to do if something has happened to the both of you? What are any of us going to do without _you_?_

Jensen has been a part of her life for as long as she can remember. That's not to say that she even knew him when they were knee-high to a grasshopper. She _prefers _to think that the portion of her life before him had been a glitch in the system. 

Her life lifted off when she met him. 

Danneel remembers the day she showed up to group therapy and saw Jensen, nineteen at the time, sitting in a room where he had been the odd one out. Danneel admired his bravery. It wasn't every day that she came across a male sexual assault survivor. 

She recalls the chatter amongst the survivors, clenching her jaw at the disbelief in their tones. While she understood that male victims rarely attended these meetings--never up until that point--, it did not give _them _the right to blindly assume that Jensen had no right to be there. 

On that day, no one spoke to Jensen. No one other than Danneel paid attention to anything that he had to say. He hadn't said much, struggling to get the words out. She understood, and it had her heart racing with hatred for Jensen's abuser. 

It made her temporarily forget her own torment when she saw the blood drain from his face until she returned to her dorm and relived her own gruelling experience, disgusted with her reflection in the mirror. 

The next time she saw him, she shared her own story with the group. She watched him as she spoke, the blatant compassion and sympathy in his eyes bringing her to tears more than her own _retelling_ did. He never once stopped paying attention to what she had to say, and she had this feeling that someone truly cared about her. 

Yes, the other survivors showed their support. Something about their well-meaning words of sympathy and sisterhood felt forced. As if they were mandated. 

Spoken to appease, and lacking honesty. 

After the session ended, she took her chance and called out to him. He had acknowledged her, deep pain in his eyes that she witnessed every time she wiped away the condensation on the glass. Danneel had asked him if he wanted to go for a coffee, and Jensen had agreed. 

Sat alone in that cafe, they got to know each other, avoiding the subject of their difficult circumstances that brought them together. She learned that Jensen had been studying culinary arts and business, he came from Austin, Texas, and he decided to go to group therapy in order to hear other people's stories, in the hopes that their strength might help him work through his own issues. 

Danneel shakes her head, a fond smile on her face. 

The day Jensen told her his story, after weeks and weeks of group therapy sessions, where he finally opened up, Danneel wished he had never said anything. 

Before Jensen, when Danneel thought about sexual assault, she never entertained the idea that a _woman_ could be the abuser. Finding out that a woman had not only been Jensen's tormentor but that it had been when he was an innocent seven-year-old attending his local school, tore her world apart. 

If there was one thing that Danneel detests more than anything else in this world, it's child sexual abuse. Children are not meant to be used as toys for sick people's entertainment. They are certainly not meant to be taken advantage of by their own teachers. 

Danneel waves away her thoughts, getting back on track with her emails. That type of nostalgia will leave her with a queasy feeling in her stomach, and she would like to get this done at some point tonight so that she might still be able to meet up with Genevieve. 

The moment she sends off another email, the door to Jensen's office opens. 

She centres her attention on Jensen's form standing in the doorway, his knees wobbling, and eyes looking shot. Danneel notices that he's not in the best of ways, reevaluating what she should open with. He's holding his hands together, sheepish, lost. 

"Jensen, are you okay?" 

Jensen rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, letting his arms drop to his sides, "It's been a long day, but I'm fine. Had a little episode. You know how it is," he says with a casual shrug, stepping further into his office. 

Danneel stiffens at his admission, envisioning all sorts of troubling memories that could have flooded Jensen's subconscious. She wonders if there had been something to trigger it, or perhaps the episode had been random. The question hangs in her throat, asking for permission to be released. Danneel denies its request, knowing from experience that Jensen reveals the parts that he wants to while leaving the rest out. 

It's not her place to push him for details, even if they have an agreement that they can talk to each other about their issues whenever they need to. 

"Do you want a hug?" she asks instead, giving Jensen the freedom to decide for himself, and fighting her own selfish desire to embrace him, to perhaps bring herself comfort. 

Jensen smiles in her direction, stunning green eyes glistening with familial love for her, answering her question without opening his mouth. He closes the distance between them, spreading his arms wide. 

Danneel rises in a flash, rounding the desk to wrap her arms around him. The mix of cleaning products mixes with his aftershave, cluing her in on what his day has been filled with. She hugs him tighter, understanding that for him to reek this much of the stuff, it must have been a _bad_ one. On her back, she feels his fingers pull her closer, the weight of his chin resting on her shoulder, met with no resistance. He's not the lightest man in the world to hold up, but she'll never let him fall. 

"Thanks for doing my job for me, Danny. I really appreciate it," Jensen says, swaying them from side to side. He backs off after a few beats, holding her at arm's length so he can study her face, "I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble." 

A coy smile stretches her lips, "You _really_ did. This has been _such_ an imposition. How am I _ever_ going to get this day back?" she replies, tapping him on his left pectoral. 

Jensen feigns self-loathing, bottom lip jutting out, "You're right. I'm the worst. You should just leave and find a boss that will treat you with the respect that you deserve," he tucks his bottom lip under his teeth, staring off to the left. 

Danneel laughs heartily, shaking her head with a slow but meaningful motion, long hair framing her face, "We both know if that ever happened, you'd go out of business in a matter of moments."

"Without a shadow of a doubt," Jensen agrees, resituating her hair for her, "Good thing you're sticking around then." 

_They would have to drag me out of here before I ever left willingly. I'm not telling you that, though. It wouldn't do you any good to get an ego, now. That's how all of us feel. You just can't see how much you mean to us. _

"For now, mister. You can tell me _all_ about your little adventure to Jared's house after we get this finished. Since you left me to do all of _your_ work, you can join me at the bar with Genevieve, and pay for all my drinks," Danneel intones, returning to Jensen's desk chair, enthusiasm replenished, "Oh, and Chris said he's going to break into your house if you don't call him back." 

Jensen flinches at that, popping his lips. 

"I'll get on that now," he declares, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

"That's a good idea." 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the person that accurately pointed out that Jared's organs should be damaged by his bouts of heat, please don't see this chapter as me being like "Lol, uh, did you not get that, like, there are supernatural elements, and like, also, the heat mainly affects the blood just under the surface of his flesh?" Because I dropped crumbs at first, and mentioned things like "no adverse effects" in the first or second chapter, I think, BUT I planned to incorporate a chapter where he goes to the doctors since it would be hard to believe that someone with a weird condition like his doesn't get regular checkups, where I planned to clear up loose ends and stuff. 
> 
> So, again, PLEASE don't see this as some sort of dig at you because Jared's word choice and stuff comes across as ass-y. The pace and tone are like that because of how frequently he has to hear and go through this shit. 
> 
> We good? I had to stop several times when I was writing this because I was like "Is that person going to think I'm being a complete and total dick right now? How do I write this without coming across as a patronizing piece of shit?" 
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy! And know that asking questions is awesome. Not only does it prompt me to recheck things that I've written in past chapters, but it also inspires me for future chapters if it has the right ring to it. So please keep the questions coming. I love insight. :> 
> 
> Love, Kieran.

_ There’s not a chance that I would be _here _if Jensen hadn’t insisted I get myself checked out before returning to work. _

Jared hunches over on the examination bed, body refusing to remain upright. He can’t disagree with its deflation, considering the last few nights have been difficult, where getting the proper sleep has been an issue. He’s tired, run-down, and getting check-ups tends to drain the colour from his face, in general. 

The silence in the room makes the whole situation worse. Jared understands that being a _special _case often isolates him from the rest of the Doctor’s visitors, but even having something other than medical bullshit to look at would be better than this—even _that one kid _that never stops crying because they’re bored, and their parents can’t be bothered to take them over to the station set up _specifically _for kids and play with them. 

Jared shakes his head, cutting off his train of thought. He doesn’t have the right to criticise someone else’s parenting when he’s never been in their shoes, regardless of how obvious his own observations should be to anyone paying attention. 

One would think that Jared would be used to this by now, given how many times in the past he’s been in this exact situation. Going to the Doctor’s had been an almost weekly occurrence for him since he started experiencing his unusual waves of heat. Jared’s sure that he was like a game to them, and that they may have made bets on who would be the one to figure out his anomaly. 

No one claimed on that bet, though. It didn’t matter who he went to, they would never tell him anything that the one before them hadn’t already. Well, they couldn’t tell his _parents. _ Jared asserted religiously throughout the rest of his teen years that he would have been happy to go about his life, dealing with _it _in his own way. 

Parents don’t tend to want to listen to their children. Jared knew each time he opened his mouth so say that he would be fine with them giving up on getting an answer, that they would turn around and ensure him that they would get to the bottom of it no matter what because they didn’t want him to suffer anymore. 

Jared smiles despite his rebellion to the simple fulfilment of their parental duties. He could have been nicer about it when he was growing up, but everyone does stupid shit when they’re kids, even into their late teens. 

A yawn stretches the muscles in his jaw, hands gripping the undersides of the examination bed. The cold metal feels good against his flesh, prompting him to recall the icy nips of the chiller at the restaurant. 

Jensen had been so gentle with him then. He took the brunt of the fall, even though Jared has a few inches on him, both in size and body mass. Jared’s not sure that he enjoys being likened to a damsel in distress in those moments. Then again, if Jensen can be his knight in shining armour, he can’t have much to complain about. 

Light sparks of arousal wet his lips. He aims a patronising glance at his crotch, willing it to not stir while he’s here. Jared could be under the scrutiny of cameras right now, and he’s not in the business of scarring the security guards for life or giving them a free show. 

Back to the topic of Jensen, Jared’s confused by the whole prospect. The man never once mentioned that he saw him in the nude. He shrugged off the fact that he cleaned his entire house, making it seem like he had been bored waiting for Jared to wake up, to which Jared would counter that he could have left and gone back to work. Alas, he didn’t, however, did hint that his OCD played a big part. 

Jensen has PTSD and OCD. The idea of this fills Jared with dread, as well as some sense of guilt that he can’t make heads or tails of. He knows that he hadn’t been a part of Jensen’s life when _something _happened to him, so why would he feel guilty? 

Jared crosses his arms, sighing out a breath. He’s been thinking about these things since Jensen left him to go back to work a few nights ago. For one thing, it explains his lack of rested sleep, with his dreams being plagued with Jensen in all kinds of scenarios that Jared would rather die than see in person, ever. 

In the middle of the nightmares, Jared sometimes gets side-lined with an impressive visual of Jensen performing _acts _on him. Intricate acts... Pleasurable acts... Bed-rocking acts... 

_ Stop thinking about that. You need to calm down. You’re at the Doctor’s, not the back of a movie __theatre__. _

Nevertheless, Dream Jensen can work some magic with those hips of his, hitting _all _the right spo-- 

_ Enough. If I get a boner here, I’m grabbing the nearest sharp thing I can find and cutting you off. _

Jared relaxes as the threat of self-mutilation has his privates heeding his warning, relieved himself that he doesn’t have to enact it. Whether or not he would have falls on his penis to decide for itself, and then choose to take that risk or not. 

Jared’s eyes pivot to the door as the bolt clicks, the Doctor letting themselves in as they begin their introductions. 

“Mr Padalecki, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dr Julian,” Jared detects the hint of an Indian accent, chiding himself for immediately thinking that their last name doesn’t make any sense, and then walks back over it when he spots a ring sitting on her _ring _finger, “I see that you’re not new to the Doctor’s office. How are you today?” 

“Fine, thank you. I like your hair,” Jared says, flashing a charming smile. When she doesn’t pin him with a creeped out look, he assumes that complimenting her hair won’t label him as a desperate, horny loser. Not that it would have been the first time—some women can be rather vain, jumping to conclusions before learning a simple detail about the other person, like their sexuality, for example. 

“Really? Well, thank you for the compliment,” she replies, perusing what he assumes to be his file, “I’ll confess I’ve read papers published about your condition. I can’t imagine how difficult it is to live with something that has yet to be given a name,” Jared scratches the knuckle of his thumb as she proceeds to pull a seat up to the examination table, half taking in what she’s saying. He doesn’t need to hear things that he’s heard multiple times. 

“Just one of those things, I guess,” he supplies, shoulders rising and falling in time with his intake of breath—slow, clinical, unaffected. 

Dr Julian’s hand hesitates in her lap. Jared’s not sure what she may have been planning to do with it, but he’s glad that she kept it where it was. He doesn’t want sympathy from people. This condition that he has affects _him_, not anyone else. Emotionally speaking, he can surrender to the fact that it can be taxing on those that love him. Physically, on the other hand, they don’t' know shit. It’s not their fault, and he would never make them feel bad for something that they cannot control, but they are _not _the ones living with it. 

“May I ask when was the last time you experienced a fluctuation in body heat?” 

Jared frowns, clasping his hands together. 

“It’s not so much a fluctuation. More of a steadily rising temperature that jumps from level to level. Most of the time, it’s mild enough that turning on the fan, or rushing outside on a windy day can make handling it a piece of cake. It’s just that lately, they’ve hit one after the other. Like, a couple of weeks apart. They used to be a lot more widespread, y’know?” 

She tips her head as she sucks her lips into her mouth, mocha brown eyes peering off to the left, pausing on the pure white wall. Jared can see that she’s trying to wrap her head around it. If she takes a whack at it and answers the question scientists have been pondering since he was a Sophomore, Jared will give her his left arm. He’s not questioning her skill, of course. This anomaly appears as though it’s going to be one of the world’s ongoing mysteries, unsolvable. 

“Has there been any changes to your diet or daily routine in the time leading up to this sudden increase in episodes?” 

“Dietary, no. Daily routine... I got a new job. The first big one actually happened during my interview. Well, before it even started, actually,” Jared regales her, surprised as to why his lips stretch in fondness at the memory of the event, “I got the job, so it wasn’t all bad, I suppose.” 

“What amazes me, Jared—do you mind if I call you Jared?” 

“Not at all.” 

“Excellent. What amazes me, Jared, is that you have sustained zero damage to your internal organs, your nerve endings, brain functionality, and not to mention how shocking it is that you’ve managed to avoid fissures, clotting, third-degree burns. From where I’m sitting, the temperatures you have reached during these episodes should have left you hospitalised at best, and dead, at worst.” 

During her monologue, Jared thinks about other things he could be doing right now. This information is not _new_. He’s heard _all _of this before. He knows that the fact that he’s alive is miraculous. Regardless of what he says next, she’s going to have what he calls a _medicalgasm_, because what Doctor/Scientist worth their salt wouldn’t be fascinated by his existence? 

_ The only reason I’m not a national treasure or whatever is because you have to sign a non-disclosure agreement. You can write about me, but you can’t mention me by name. Feel free to go home to your other half tonight and gush about how incredible I am, but just leave me out of it. I _ will _be back here if I’m suddenly hunted down by the press. _

“I’ve already been told this before. I’m sorry I can’t give you an answer as to why I’m like this. Sure, it would be nice if someone could figure it out, but I’m not going to hold my breath, so could you maybe just run the usual tests and let me get on with my day?” 

Jared tried to avoid coming across as impatient, ready to leave, and asshole-ish. He did, to a degree. The truth is he can’t sit here listening to someone speculate and fuss over how they could cure him when it’s not going to happen. 

He’s weird. He’s not physically or internally harmed by his condition. He knows that. It weirds him out, too, and being reminded of it each time he comes to the examination room drags him further away from humanity. Jared never _asked _for this—he doesn’t _want _to be the world’s test dummy. 

“Of course, Jared. I’m sorry, we’ll get right on that.” 

Jared watches her shoulders sag, and her eyes glaze over with a pensive slant. To be fair, it’s not her fault. She doesn’t know what it’s like to be him. 

No one _does_. 

* * *

As he expected, nothing came of his check-up. Dr Julian told him that his vitals, blood pressure and levels are all normal, with the _same _dumbfounded expression Jared has borne witness to too many times. Nothing that he can do about it, as per usual. He would be upset if he hadn’t given up hope on learning what’s wrong with him a long time ago. 

The air in Jared’s knuckles releases with a satisfying pop, hands dropping to the table. 

Stopping at a café hadn’t been on his mind when he left the Doctor’s. He had planned on heading straight home or perhaps calling work to see if Jensen would let him catch a later shift. Jared doesn’t want to mess with the already established rota for the week, so he left that idea at the door. 

He turns his head to the side, watching the distorted cars drive by the window, guessing people are on their way home from their nine-to-fives. A few faces barely come into view in the background, and Jared wonders where everyone else could be at this point. 

“Is everything alright, Sir?” 

Jared regards the speaker, disregarding the slight tremble in their voice. It leads him to believe that this person could be new to their job, or introverted. The way they’re standing at an angle supports this. Jared could stand right now and this dude would fall on his ass. 

“All good, thanks,” Jared says, offering a kind smile. 

“It’s a bit of a miserable evening, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah. The rains coming down a fair bit,” he agrees, half in the conversation. 

“Mhm. Please shout if you need anything,” the waiter reminds him, walking off to pester someone else. 

If the dude had bothered to use his eyes, he would have seen that Jared hasn’t even gotten halfway through his coffee, and he’s not scanning through a menu right now. 

Jared breathes hard through his nose, berating himself. The waiter is doing his job. Asking people how they’re doing happens to be part of it. 

A blind man would be able to tell that Jared’s frustrations with the waiter are projections of his own anger towards his condition. He’s not fooling anyone, least of all himself. Part of Jared _still _longs for an answer, and rightly so. Who wouldn’t want to know the reason for their suffering? Jared _wishes _someone would crack the case, gain fame for discovering his anomaly, and provide him with... 

With what, though? A cure? A temporary fix? Jared rolls his eyes at the idea. No one has a chance of diagnosing him, let alone coming up with a cure for _it_. 

Ringing registers in Jared’s ears. He doesn’t look to see who’s entered the café. Unlike a lot of people, Jared has never been the type to peer over to satisfy his curiosity. Finding out who they are will have no impact on his day, after all. 

Heavy footsteps draw closer to his booth. Jared would tell them to walk with a little more grace if he could be bothered to do anything other than drink his coffee right now. It would be a waste of breath, and who knows how many of them he has left in him? Sure, there have been no adverse effects to his body, outwardly or internally, but who’s to say that this condition isn’t a ticking timebomb waiting for the right moment to screw up his life? 

“Jarebear, what are _you _doing here?” 

Jared jolts at the voice, shifting his head to his right fast enough to crack his neck in the process. He blinks a few times as he takes in Chris’s image, confused as to why him being in a café would warrant a tone of surprise as if the idea of him drinking coffee is ludicrous. 

Still, Jared would be lying if he said that it isn’t a welcome addition to his day. 

“I’m drinking coffee. Because, y’know, it’s a café,” Jared replies, eyes shimmering with mirth. 

Chris takes the opposite seat without asking, folding his arms on top of the table. 

“Smartass. When are you gonna stop being a porcelain doll, and get your ass back in the kitchen?” 

Jared shrugs, cupping his chin in his palm. Chris’s question has been running on a loop in his head since Jensen told him to get himself checked out before he could return to work. Jared knows his body better than Jensen does, so why couldn’t the man take his word for it that he would be fine after he rested? The hope would be that his condition leaving him bed-ridden doesn’t turn into a common occurrence that _should _lose him his job. 

_ Hell, I’ll quit myself if it keeps happening. _

“Did you miss me that much, Chrissy?” Jared jests, placing his free hand over Chris’s arms. 

“You have no idea, sunshine. It’s not the same without your giant ass taking up half the kitchen.” 

“You love it,” Jared quips, taking his hand back. 

Chris laughs as he grabs the menu, and Jared relaxes from the real glee in it. They only spent one day in each other’s company, but a connection developed between them almost instantly. The same can be said for the rest of the team. Jared gets along with all of them, and he loves that, outside of work, Chris sought him out the moment he noticed he was here. 

“Your big ass? Oh, that’s definitely a new perk of the job,” Chris agrees with a well-timed wink. 

Jared finds himself laughing heartier than he should be in this situation. Perhaps someone like Chris was exactly what he needed right now to pull him from his doom and gloom. 

Between bantering with each other, Jared learns about what’s been going on at the restaurant while he’s been away. Chris mentioned that nothing had changed—pointing out that Jared shouldn’t be so conceited, having only been there a day before landing his ass in bed, and missing the chance to eat Jensen’s cooking, which to Chris was complete sacrilege—the one thing Chris thought was worth mentioning was that Jensen had been staying back later than usual the past few days to clean more. 

Jared figured at that moment that Chris hadn’t been told about what happened at his house. It wouldn’t be his place to divulge that bit of information, so he chooses not to add anything, made harder by the look of worry on Chris’s face. 

It’s easy to see that Chris is someone that cares deeply for his friends, and Jensen would be no exception to this. 

To tell Chris something that Jensen himself omitted would be one thing, but Jared feels this urge to offer at least some kind of detail. Not about Jensen’s _coping mechanism _at his house the other day. That would defeat the point of him honouring Jensen’s vow of silence on the matter. He can, however, tell Chris about his own condition, a personal matter that he prides himself on keeping as many people as possible in the dark about. 

True, it may not be the story that Chris wants right now, but anything is better than nothing. 

“All I know about Jensen is that he’s _a little _OCD_, _unfortunately. But you wanna know something else?” 

Chris’s ears may as well have perked up like a cat’s, the image causing Jared to almost spit-take. 

“I like secrets if that’s what this is,” Chris asserts, leaning in closer. 

“In that case, listen closely.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I managed to get this out before the end of the day. LOL. I woke up at 4PM this afternoon... I know, I'm terrible. I seem to sleep for eons when I'm ill. Stupid sinuses.  
Anyway, I wanted to say thanks to those of you that have commented. I really appreciate the feedback, and I would like to assert here that I am completely open to all forms of constructive critisisms. 
> 
> For example, I am a male. If you, uh, didn't know that. I am a gay male, and therefore I might drop the ball when it comes to writing female characters, potentially. 
> 
> I'm fully aware that the vast majority of readers/writers on AO3 are women, so please feel free to point out where I'm tanking in that respect. LOL 
> 
> Nevertheless, please enjoy the latest chapter. It's a bit longer than usual, so there's that. :D 
> 
> Love, Kieran.

Breathing in the mesh of tantalising aromas spreading throughout the air around him feels like _coming home _for Jared. He watches the team at work, slices of meat soaring and turning before gravity hurls them downwards into a waiting pan, and skilled hands shake, sliding the cooking meat in all directions. 

Jared’s lips widen at the sight, reminding him why he wanted to devote his life to this profession. It brings him back to the first time he read through a cookbook, all the colourful creations compelling him to try them out for himself, one at a time. In the beginning—like anyone starting out—he hadn’t been very good. Jared prepared a lot of failures during his experimental phase, turning out dishes that his poor parents’ would force themselves to eat as they slapped on a smile that Jared knew—even at the time—had been fake. 

Multiple failures hadn’t discouraged him, though. In fact, those failures pushed him to learn. If he hadn’t failed time and time again, he never would have progressed to the point where he could produce a dish that provoked smiles of glee, rather than disgust. 

When he has time to visit his parents’ these days, they’re more than happy to be his Lab Rats, sampling any new dish that he’s thought of since last meeting them, and Jared couldn’t be happier to share his creations with them, for if they hadn’t encouraged him every step of the way in his pursuits, it stands to reason that he wouldn’t have the same passion for cooking that he has today. 

That aside, Jared’s still finding his ground at _The Good Kind of Ackles. _

Jensen allowed him to come back to work at the start of the next week after his appointment, as he explained to Jared that it would not be fair for him to take shifts away from people that had already been given them so that he could have some hours that week. 

Jared understood his point, and respected him for it, more so than he had before. While it would have been great to have been able to work last week, the thought of robbing someone of their shift wouldn’t have sat well with him. 

Monday and Tuesday had gone well, which instilled Jared with a touch more confidence in his abilities as a Chef. Throughout his shift, he had remained engaged and willing to listen to any advice that the others might think to give him. 

Danneel, Chris and Katie had been keen on utilising him between their stations, giving Jared the rundown of their main responsibilities in the kitchen. The reason they gave for this had been that if ever one of them happened to be off work in whatever case, having several stand-ins for that scenario would be nothing other than beneficial for the team. 

Jared realises that in the grand scheme of things, he has been here for _three full days_ in total—this being his fourth. He understands that, with this being the case, supervision still needs to be maintained concerning his involvement. 

At the end of his shift on Tuesday, he overheard Chris talking to Jensen about when they could let him off the reigns. Jared would like to think of himself as someone that wouldn’t listen in on someone else’s conversation, however, hearing his name mentioned had his ears imprisoned with the temptation to know the details. 

Jensen’s response had been something along the lines of, _"It partly being up to Jared”_, which he contemplated to a great extent last night—close to knocking himself out to get some sleep by the time two in the morning flashed on his phone. 

_ What does that even mean? _

When he arrived at work this morning, Jared had a _plan _to get his colleagues thoughts on the matter and then realised that if Chris found out, then he would know that Jared stuck his nose where it shouldn’t have been. 

So... He kept quiet. 

Jared finds himself smiling when he thinks of Chris. The man had sat across from him at the diner, taking in everything that he had to say regarding his condition. Not once did he interrupt or allow his eyes to roam. Chris listened, understood and reacted like a _normal _human being would in that scenario.

His confusion had shown on his face throughout Jared’s explanation, which made _complete _sense. If he had taken it all in stride without perhaps contemplating that Jared should be locked up in a mental institution somewhere, Jared would have been uncomfortable, for it’s normal for someone to have that preconceived notion about something they have no knowledge of.

People are automatically afraid of the unknown. 

With his condition being a one in a who-knows-what chance of happening, sheer surprise at his admission is an understatement. He believes that if he were to tell a closed-minded individual, the mere shock would be the _least _of his concerns. 

After some quiet contemplation, Chris had decided to accept it for what it was and proceeded to crack jokes about it, which served to brighten Jared’s mood in an instant. The two of them bantered over it, never drawing light to its absurdity, but rather the _benefits. _

Chris had theorised that Jared would be crucial during the next _Ice Age, _putting his middle finger up to global warming as he acted as the centrepiece, surrounded by all of _God’s _creatures, heroically staving off the cold. Jared had gotten a good laugh out of the mental picture of that, and Chris added that he could be the second coming of _Jesus _for all they knew. 

Jared had left out his own stance on religion, as he could see that Chris, although being humorous, it had been clear to Jared that he believed in a higher power. 

Another one of Chris’s guestimates had been one of sympathy for Jared’s _Ex’s and O’s, _in that the last thing they would have expected when they woke up the next morning would be to have their flesh melting off their bones. He also side-lined to an anecdote about getting kicked out of his own bed by a girl he hooked up with one time because his body heat had been too much for her, and how she should consider herself lucky that he hadn’t been Jared. 

As it stands, Jared has no regrets telling Chris about his condition or certain obstacles he’s had to overcome because of it, and he believes that if he were to tell the rest of the group—including Jensen—they would all react the same way. It’s another one of those moments where he’s reminded of how fortunate he’s been lately. 

Jared’s trip down memory lane over with, he wonders if perhaps an opportunity will present itself at some point during his shift where he can make an inquiry with an underlying tone regarding Jensen’s vague comment about him, with the hopes that it might start a conversation? The problem with _that_ being Jared’s struggle with acting subtle, even at the best of times. 

Jared subdues his incoming sigh, focusing on his job. He has more important things to do than agonise over a line that he can’t make heads or tails of—starting with adding the finishing touches to a three-layered cake for a customer’s Birthday, which warms Jared’s heart to breaking point. 

There’s something about celebrating another person’s Birthday, _especially_ when that person means something special. That’s not to say that Jared knows this person from Adam, but that doesn’t mean he can’t take great delight in preparing them a cake for their Birthday. 

Something that amazes Jared is that it has _three _layers, reaffirming his belief that Jensen takes great pride in his clientele. Why else would he go to all the fuss of requesting a three-tier cake, ask that all the staff be ready when the lights go off to sing _Happy Birthday _and offer this service at _no _extra cost for their meals? 

_ What’s not to love about that? _

“Good to see that you’re back with us, newbie.” 

Jared shifts his head towards the voice, reciprocating the easy smile. 

“You noticed that I spaced out? Damn. Guess I have to go back to acting school,” Jared replies, scrunching up his face. 

Genevieve laughs and grabs her phone, gesticulating with her hands that he needs to stay like that until she snaps a picture. When she does, they both share a laugh at it, inviting the rest of the team over to join them in commenting on how ridiculous he looks in it. 

“Katnip, you reckon you could get your cousin to print that on T-shirts for us?” Chris asks, projecting to the rest of the group that he’s being dead serious. 

Matt chimes in with, “You could just ask her to send it to you instead of going to all that trouble to print it, just so we don’t realise that you only want it for more jerk-off material,” and Chris winks suggestively as he slings his arm around Jared’s shoulders. 

“What’s the matter, Matty? Jealous?” 

“Not jealous,” Matt declares, blowing a kiss at Jared, “I want it for my spank-bank, too.” 

Jared grins, adding, “Now, now, fellas. There’s enough of me to go around,” which has everyone laughing and smiling. 

For the next few moments, everyone adds to the banter until they realise that they have jobs to do, prompting them all to return to their stations, snickering under their breaths as they throw comments over their shoulders. 

“I think we can do better than T-shirts, guys,” Katie says after Danneel apologises in spirit to Jared’s exes for _that_ orgasm face, “T-Shirts are small fish. What we need is to get that on billboards and busses.” 

“I’d sign that petition,” Genevieve concurs as she garnishes a delicious looking salmon fillet, “And, I_, of course,_ get a percentage for being the owner of the photo.” 

“Here _I_ am willing to put that face out there just so the rest of the world gets a chance to brighten their day with it, and this _hoe _is in it for the money,” Chris replies, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. 

“Oh, _fuck off_, wannabe Indiana Jones. As long as you get a new Quad Bike out of it, you’ll play along,” Danneel insists, pinning him with a playful glare. 

Jared keeps his ears open for opportunities to jump in while he adds the last Gumdrop to the cake, amused by their antics. Moments like this reassure him that applying for this job might have been the best decision that he’s ever made, for who knows where he could have ended up had the interview not gone in his favour? 

_ I still don’t understand how I even got the chance to plead my case. Any normal person would have asked me to leave after that whole episode. _

Coming to terms with his luck took a toll on Jared in the two weeks he had to get all his ducks in a row before starting his first day. He replayed all the parts that he could remember, searching for that _one _thing that could justify him managing to get the job, and found that, in the end, he should accept that there are some things in life that no one can explain. After all, it’s not _his_ prerogative to decide whether or not he’s worth taking a chance on. 

He imagines that in the future there will be times where he questions his unfounded luck, with his knowledge of his own past doubting the validity of it all.

Several instances before now blossomed deep distrust in Jared, born from years of suffering and strife. If he were to travel back in time to any period beyond the age of fifteen, he could land in a scenario that left him feeling helpless, with cooking being his safety blanket—the one thing he could absorb himself in, in order to block out the self-hatred, bewilderment and constant internal inquiries as to _why _he had been saddled with his condition. 

During his younger years, when he had been five or six, Jared believed in a higher power. That had been the norm, then. Like most non-believers, his faith dwindled the moment life beat him down to the ground. Even back then, he knew that it had not been fair for him to blame all of his struggles on a potential all-powerful being, however, to this day, he hasn’t found a reason to reacquire his faith. 

_ Let’s not go down that rabbit hole. Focus on your job. _

Jared hums as he slots the final candle into the cake, grinning at his work. He agrees that Katie had been right about sticking with chocolate as the base, separating the tiers with pink marshmallows, which serve to fluff it up a bit. If he’s being honest, his favourite part is the dark, melted fudge pooling at the top, decorated with an array of sweets, and sprinkled with _Hundreds & Thousands _—what kid wouldn’t be losing their shit at the sight? 

The kitchen door bursts open, and Jared turns, cake in hands, to see Jensen gesturing for everyone to follow him out the door. 

Not wishing to keep the birthday girl waiting any longer, Jared walks at a steady pace with the rest of the group, being careful not to drop the cake.

Jared hopes that they’re going to love it as much as he does. 

Ahead of him, the lights dim, and the music slows to a standstill. The customers notice the change in the atmosphere as chairs begin sliding out all around. People turn in their seats, paying attention to the spectacle unfolding as Jared moves further into the room with the cake, light from the candles illuminating the way. 

Understanding what’s about to happen, the customers join in when Jensen starts singing _Happy Birthday _to the little girl that looks like she can barely contain her excitement, eyes lit with joy, hands clasped together and shoulders bouncing in tandem with each other as she lifts herself on and off her seat. 

Jared tries to keep up with the rest of the group, finding it difficult to match pitch with so many different vocals going on at the same time. He doesn’t think that anyone is going to care if his tone happens to be off, so he decides to put his all into the last line as he presents the cake in front of the Birthday girl. 

“Oh wow, Jenny, that looks amazing, doesn’t it?” 

The little girl beams, nodding her head in vehement agreement, “It’s amazing, Mommy! Can I blow out the candles, please?” 

“Of course you can, sweetie. First, don’t you have something to say to the nice people?” 

Jenny shifts her attention to all the staff surrounding her, returning their endearing smiles in earnest. 

“Thank you all so much!” 

Jensen takes a step forward and shakes the girl’s Mother’s hand, who’s eyes moisten from the kindness her daughter has been shown, and Jared finds himself fighting his own urge to cry at the sight. He has nothing against crying in whatever situation calls for it, but it wouldn’t look good for him to shed tears at work, for the girl might not understand. 

He can hear Jensen and the Mother exchanging niceties, with Jensen shrugging off all of her thanks like it’s not necessary, promising that he was more than happy to set this up for her daughter. He also tells her to expect her own cake on her Birthday, to which she implores him that there’s no need to go through such a fuss for her, and Jensen insists that age doesn’t matter to him when it comes to celebrating someone’s special day. 

“Now can I blow out the candles, Mommy?” 

“Yes, sweetie. Don’t forget to make a wish,” her Mother replies, clapping along with the rest of the room as she works on extinguishing all of the candles, receiving a huge round of applause coupled with cheers at the end. 

Jensen approaches him once the applause dies down, slapping his hands on Jared’s shoulders good-naturedly. 

“Excellent job on the cake, Greenhorn. It looks fantastic.” 

“Thanks. Katie taught me well, I guess,” Jared replies, eyes tracking the moment Jensen’s hands drop from his shoulders. The weight isn’t lost on him, and he can’t help but miss the contact, struggling to keep a straight face as Jensen sings Katie’s praises to him, “Yeah, she’s great.” 

Jared continues to listen to Jensen, drawn to the movements of his lips. He tries to keep his eyes up, determined to not sully the conversation with his leering looks. Jensen doesn’t seem to notice his wandering, proceeding to tell him what he’d heard from the team regarding him, voicing his pride at Jared’s progression. 

As he’s conversing with Jensen, an icy chill runs through his veins. His frame shudders, the hair on his arms erecting, brushing against his chef attire. 

A distinct change in the atmosphere provokes Jared’s heart to beat faster in his chest. 

_ It feels like... Someone’s watching me. _

Jared surveys the room with quick snaps, wading through the sea of bodies to find where the source of this tension stems from. He has no way of knowing which direction he should be looking in, cut off by customers heads above the rest of their group. 

His mouth goes dry as he widens his search, turning on his heel away from Jensen, who tags along without being asked, which Jared transmits his silent gratitude for. 

“I’ll be out of your hair in a minute, Greenhorn,” Jensen says, falling into step with Jared to his right. Jared will kick himself for half-listening to the man later, however, he’s more focused on where this _strange_ sensation is coming from. 

“Take all the time you need, please. It’s your dime,” Jared attempts to banter, shooting _subtle _looks towards the other side of the restaurant. 

“No, no. I need you to get back to work, too. I just wanted to ask if you know this blond _dude _that wears a, uh, honestly pretty awesome leather jacket? Because he mentioned you personally earlier, but I told him you wouldn’t be able to speak to him until your break.” 

Jared stops and takes a breath. 

_ Blonde dude with an awesome leather jacket... _

“Was his name Chad?” 

He waits for Jensen to respond, happy to relent in his search for now. If it turns out to be Chad, then he’s got nothing to worry about it. The loveable lunatic always has been more like a guard dog where Jared’s concerned, watching his and everyone else’s every move to ensure that no funny business is going down. Jared can find it infuriating at times, but it also plays a strong part in why he loves Chad so much. 

Still, there’s something _off _about the way this makes him feel. 

Jensen seems as though he’s trying to call back to his conversation with the person, humming to himself with his eyes downcast. 

“If he told me his name, I don’t remember it,” he admits, and Jared’s skull throbs ominously, “But he was sat _over there _if you wanna go and see for yourself. Do you think it’s important?” 

Jared resists the urge to gnaw on his thumbnail, pivoting towards the area Jensen pointed and pushing himself to locate _Chad_ somewhere in the mix. He sees multiple heads and faces, some of them blonde. 

_None_ of them Chad. 

Ignoring the heavy weight in his stomach, Jared tells Jensen that it was probably Chad and that he’ll text him later on. 

* * *

Caramel irises capture one last mental image of Jared’s profile before he retreats back to the kitchen. A glimmer of intrigue reflects the lights dancing around the room, resurfaced after the disbandment of the onetime only group of applauding monkeys for one girl. 

While the rest of the group had been clapping along with hearts in their eyes, this man sat in quiet contemplation, unable to utter a single syllable as the form of his obsession stood before him, singing out of tune with everyone else, _unaware_ of his presence. 

He’s not upset that Jared didn’t notice him. In fact, he’s glad, for the plan had not been for Jared to see him today. 

That will come _later_. 

Pleased with his progress for today, the man gets up from his seat and walks swiftly to the bar. He pays for his meal in _cash_, not bothering to collect his change. 

Money has never been an object for him. 

Without another word, he leaves the restaurant and heads for his car, parked a few blocks away. He sniffs the air, picking up the subtle indications that a storm is on the horizon. 

Storms never fail to make things interesting, so he revels in its inevitable arrival, a spring in his step as he passes pedestrians on their way to who knows where. 

Not long later, he arrives at his car and loads himself inside, closing the door behind him. Once he’s situated, he pulls out his phone from his jacket pocket and unlocks it. 

It opens on a photo of Jared smiling unbeknownst as he approaches the table with the Birthday cake for the little girl, seeming to all the world as though he couldn’t be happier for her. 

The man smiles at the photo in return, captivated by the carefree impressions on Jared’s face. He’s never been one to be infected with smiles and the like, however, his obsession with his particular man might have something to do with it. 

He pockets his phone, starting up his car to drive to his house. 

When he’s inside, he throws his keys at the bowl before making a beeline up the stairs, where he hooks his fingers on a hanging string, which grants him access to his attic with one hard tug. 

The man steps back to allow for the ladder to land in front of him, holding the sides as he climbs his way up and into his attic, flipping the light switch the moment he can reach for it. 

As the room lights up, he grabs his phone once more, plugging it into a USB cable hanging from a desktop. The screen glows as the chip enters, connecting it to the PC. 

After a few taps and clicks, he inclines his head to the printer, watching it spit out several photos of Jared, a mixture of expressions on his face. He _particularly_ enjoys the one where he’s stealing looks around the room, unknowingly trying to locate him. 

It brings another smile to his face, a warmth in his cheeks. 

He snatches the printouts off the printer and turns around to face a wall, which he begins _adding _his collection of photos to, pinning them on top of articles such as:_“Does This Prove Aliens Are Among Us—The Study of a Boy”, “A Comprehensive Look Into Male Biology, Are There Some Things That We Have Overlooked?”, “Boy Reaches Temperatures Above What the Human Body Should Be Able to Withstand, What Does This Mean for Humanity?”, _and countless others all strewn haphazardly here and there, pinned down and lined up with red strings. 

“Finally,” the man says aloud, burying his hands in his blond, short pampered hair, “After all this time searching for the boy in the articles, finally I’ve been able to figure out his name and face,” he continues, uncaring as to whether or not someone might be listening in one what he’s saying so freely. 

For several beats, he observes each image and the article that they’re attached to, nodding along to himself as he takes it all in. 

“This is going to be _crucial_ for my research, _ Jared _ Padalecki. You and I are going to get to the bottom of just _what _exactly you are.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got really into this one, so I had to split it up. Part two will be out when I figure out in my head what I want to do with it. 
> 
> Do enjoy :)
> 
> Love, Kieran.

Jared can’t seem to relax. The bubble bath he purchased the other day has done nothing to soothe his tense muscles. He doesn’t want to think badly of the sales rep who recommended the product to him, however, their guarantee that it would have the desired effect of practically  _ turning him to mush  _ has not come true.

The flesh on his hands have  _ already _ reached the point of pruning, arms made heavier through not only Jared’s submersion in the steadily chilling liquid, but also by way of his unresolved tension that latched onto him since he heard Chad say that he had not been the one to come and visit him at work. 

_He_ hadn’t been the one to ask after him. 

Chad had wanted to know why Jared made the assumption in the first place, and Jared hadn’t the slightest idea what to tell him, for he knows that Chad has never been the most level-headed person in the world. 

If Jared were to tell Chad that some _ random person _ mentioned him by name and the anonymity of it frightened him, Chad would make it his life’s mission to hunt down the person who dared to leave Jared feeling that way, which would be best to  avoid.

The detective inside Jared—clued up from watching reruns of television shows focused on crime scenes—supplies the idea that he could simply ask Jensen if he could check the security cameras in order to get a possible ID of the fellow. The only problem with that being how out of left field it would seem. 

Jensen thought that the person _knew_ Jared and has no other reason to believe otherwise. While he had been able to put across to Jared a brief description of the man’s appearance, it hadn’t been enough for Jared to ascertain whether or not he actually knew who this person was, which led him to the notion that they are a stranger to him. 

One would think that if he did know them, they would have called him to let him know that they had come to visit. Jared has made a lot of friends in his life, and he would certainly make time for them if they needed to chat. It’s not often that he actually gets to catch up with them these days, however.

Most of his friends have their own families now or have moved on to newer and better things. Jared would never hold that against them because he’s been doing the same, trying to graft his life into the image that he has had in his head for a long time now. 

Nevertheless, if one of them were to come and see him, he has no doubt that they would  let him know ahead of time or at least leave him a message stating so. 

With that in mind, Jared’s been drawing blanks ever since the first seed had been planted. Who could the person be? What do they want? How do they know him by name? Jared hasn’t used social media for almost a decade, for the less the internet knows about his personal life, the less chance they have of linking him back to something that he wishes to remain secret. 

He's seen how the people of the internet operate, and it’s not something that he wants to be a part of. The trolls that try their very hardest to amuse themselves by destroying some unfortunate soul’s life because they have nothing better to do with their time, the battle of the sexes raging on with neither side realising that the only way to improve the next generation would be to  _ stop  _ drawing attention to things that might be considered  _ odd,  _ the people on the left and right at each other’s throats, biding their time waiting for either side to resort to violence so that they can be justified in their overzealous retaliation. 

The internet has become its own brand of poison, and the consumers are gradually shortening their lifespans with each tweet they later regret, each post that receives criticisms they hadn’t been prepared for, each slam post about them with the intention of turning all the people they love against them--

Jared holds his breath as he sinks beneath the water, drowning out the injustices he hears about far too much lately. Allowing these types of thoughts to filter through his mind will have the opposite effect to what he wants out of this bath.

Not that the plan has gone well so far. 

Water slides in rivulets down Jared’s face as he resurfaces, hair sticking to parts of his cheeks. 

Aside from  _ trying  _ to relax, Jared has to get ready soon to go out to drinks with his colleagues. The part of him that doesn’t feel ten times its mass beams at the thought of having a casual hangout, but he regrets accepting the invitation because by compassion, it’s miniscule and hardly worth mentioning. 

How will he _enjoy_ himself when he can’t ignore the idea that a stranger could quite possibly have information on him? 

Yes, he has nothing to substantiate his hypophysis, yet the same could be said for the reverse. 

_ This could be nothing. He asked for me by name... So what? I’ve given my name out to plenty of people. What if he’s just some dude from the shop that I spoke to a couple of times? Maybe he recognised me and that’s why I didn’t immediately register who he was? Yeah, that could be it. I could be making a big deal out of nothing here.  _

Jared sighs and rises with great effort out of the bath, bending forward to pull the plug. He can feel the excess water absorbed into his legs, adding to the weight. 

At least _that_ pressure will ease shortly. 

As Jared steps out of the tub, he grabs a towel to start drying himself off. He starts with his hair since drying it halfway now means he doesn’t have to spend longer using his hairdryer. 

_ Guess I should go get ready... _

* * *

Jared managed to have himself changed and out the door before he risked the chance of being late, something that he would internally berate himself for if it happened. He’s been a punctual person for as long as he can remember, and he’s not about to let his anxieties tarnish that reputation now. 

It turns out he was the first person to arrive at the bar. He doesn’t mind that he’s on his own for the time being, however, it would have been nice to have at least one other person to talk to. 

At the moment, it’s just him and his beer, free to shoot the shit about everything and nothing all at once. The perfect companion, one might say. 

All of this alone time leaves more room to consider things that he would rather not be considering right now, so he hopes that someone else walks through that door soon, to save him from his own mental demise.

Fortune smiles upon him several moments later when Chris and Matt make their appearance, grinning at him from the bar as they make to order their own drinks. Jared returns their smiles with great conviction, attempting to use his dormant mind control powers. 

To his chagrin, those powers either don’t exist or have no effect on the two men who aren’t instantly dragged to his side. 

Chris and Matt approach him once they have their drinks, deciding to sit either side of him. Jared has no issue with this. Who wouldn’t like to be sandwiched between a good  ol' Texan and a man worthy of being on the front cover of  _ Men’s Health _ ? 

_ Shit... It must have been a while for me.  _

“Thank God it’s Sunday, eh, Jarebare?” Chris says, patting Jared on the thigh as he takes a swig of his beer. 

Jared drinks to that, gulping down more than necessary in the hopes that it will numb his thoughts faster, which has Matt eyeing him from the side, a glimmer of concern visible, and Jared opts to ignore it, for rising to something so trivial would only serve to perhaps prove the man’s unspoken point. 

“Whoa, slow down, Cowboy.  Jentastic put the money upfront for tonight, but you don’t have to go crazy. We’ve got time, dude,” Chris encourages, unaware that Jared’s intention isn’t to abuse Jensen’s kindness, but rather to mellow himself out as soon as possible. 

Jared can still feel Matt staring at him to his right, the intent seeming somewhat softer than it had been a moment ago. 

“Let the man drink, Chrissy. Who knows, he might be able to drink _even_ _ you  _ under the table,” Matt proposes,  nudging Jared with his elbow.

Chris proceeds to issue a challenge of that nature to Jared, wagering his car keys if he’s able to defeat him. Jared refuses politely, not wishing to leave the man carless. He’s not saying that he would definitely win, however, he has won many drinking challenges in his time. 

One of the  _ let’s say perks  _ of Jared’s condition appears to slow down the rate in which alcohol enters his bloodstream. While this may be seen as a good thing in various events, such as passing a sobriety test or getting into clubs when he’s actually extremely over the limit, the downside is that getting drunk takes  _ that much  _ longer. 

At first, Chris attempts to persuade Jared that they should do it for a laugh, but Matt reasons with him that it’s far too early in the night for a drinking contest, and cites Chris’s initial suggestion that Jared take it slow in the first place. Chris dropped the subject after that, not wanting to accidentally make himself out to be a hypocrite. 

While the three of them argue which Avenger would win in a battle  royale , Katie and the girls join them at the table. Katie interjects that it wouldn’t be fair to include Hulk since Bruce Banner is the  Jeckle to Hulk’s Hyde, whereas Iron Man engineered ways to make himself stronger while still maintaining his personality. 

Jared half agreed with her. 

Chris countered with them having to apply the same logic to Thor and Mjolnir since he wouldn’t be able to hold his own against Hulk without it. 

“But then you could say the same about Cap’ and the fact that he was injected with super soldier serum—if he went up against Tony with his original form, he’d get slapped,” Megan adds, causing a temporary silence over the group. 

Danneel breaks the silence a moment later, “Are we really going to spend the night talking about comic book characters?” Jared and the rest start booing her, listing off random comic book facts that clearly go over her head, however, she does laugh at their smarmy attitudes. 

Midway through a discussion about why films seem to be getting worse as the years go by, Jared notices that Katie has what looks like a glass of water. It _could_ be a glass of vodka for all he knows, yet he’s willing to believe that not a single person he works with would order such a thing at the bar. 

There wouldn’t be a problem if she wasn’t  _ drinking...  _ Jared can’t help wondering why that is, though. Some people don’t drink, that’s true. They’re very healthy, cutting out all things that could be considered a vice. Nevertheless, meeting someone that doesn’t drink  _ at all  _ is rare.

_ Why does it even matter?  _

The question hangs on the tip of his tongue. He could ask her outright why she’s not drinking... He could. His conscience tells him that it would be too intrusive, for who knows what reasons lay behind it? Jared doesn’t want to be  _ that _ person who ruins the mood. 

Maybe someone will bring it up without him having to ask... 

“Jared, are you okay?” 

Jared’s cheeks redden as he realises that he was caught staring. He quickly averts his eyes, taking in more of his drink. Over the rim of his glass, he can see that Katie hasn’t shifted her focus away from him, keen on receiving some kind of response. 

“I’m fine,” he half lies. 

She purses her lips, eyebrows raised. 

Katie’s not buying what he’s selling, it seems, and Jared wishes that he didn’t suck this much at being subtle in times like this. If he had been able to keep his observations _less_ apparent, Katie wouldn’t be expecting more from him than his previous answer. 

“I, uh... I just saw that you had a glass of water, and, uh, it’s not important,” Jared rambles, feeling himself digging his own grave faster with each second that ticks by. 

“Well, you’re right. It  _ is  _ water,” Katie confirms, cleansing her palate.

Jared watches as she fishes through her bag, pulling out her keys. He sees the normal things. House keys, car keys, some furry ball thing that looks as though it doesn’t belong, and several keyrings from past holidays. 

He’s not sure where she’s going with this, if he’s honest. 

There are several different conversations happening around the table, but Jared’s opted to direct his focus to Katie, who continues to rattle through her keys in search of something. 

“There it is,” Katie says, a smile of relief on her face. She grips a round accessory between her thumb and index finger, holding it out for Jared to see, “ _ This _ is my sobriety chip. I’ve been sober for a year and a half now, actually.” 

The moment the words leave her lips, Jared understands, feeling foolish for having drawn so much attention to it beforehand. One could argue that accidents happen, but these are the types of blunders that people would rather avoid. 

Aside from that, Jared finds himself welling up with pride for her. To think that this amazing woman has been sober for as long as she has, and she’s able to be around all of her friends while they  _ drink _ . It truly astonishes Jared what some people are capable of doing. He can only imagine what it must be like for someone like that in this situation. 

His heart goes out to the girl. 

Jared has been around addiction at points in his life. He hasn’t experienced it first-hand, only observed as people he cared about succumbed to its attractive  _ benefits.  _ They relied on it to take them away from the stress of their day to day lives, eventually giving themselves over to it entirely. 

Sitting there watching and not having the ability to do anything to give them the help that they needed broke Jared’s heart. 

Though he can’t stand to think about it, Jared has  _ lost  _ people to its sirens call. Good people. People he laughed and cried with... People that he  _ loved.  _ He would change things if he could—work harder to lead them away from  it. There’s nothing that he can do now. That chapter ended years ago. 

Some were stronger than the others, of course. Their strength helped him to see that if things had been different, maybe he would have been able to save them. Even so, no one can change the past. 

People can’t bring the dead back to life. 

“That’s amazing, Katie. I’m so happy for you,” Jared says, offering a smile of support for her. 

“Thank you,” she replies, placing her keys back in her bag, “It’s only recently that I’ve been able to hang out with everyone without hating every minute of it.” 

“I can only imagine.” 

To Jared’s surprise, Katie opens up to him about her struggle with addiction. She tells him about how she had been around alcohol since she crawled out of the womb, basically. He tried to hide his shock at that, not wanting to upset her, but Katie carried on as though it were nothing, saying that her Father had been a chronic alcoholic, and her Mother hadn’t been much better off. 

The majority of the time she had been around her parents, they would have a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Her Father had inherited riches from her Grandfather, so they left most of the childcare up to the Nannies that they had at their disposal. 

Tears pricked at Jared’s eyes when she told him that one particular Nanny had to keep reminding her that she wasn’t her Mother. It’s not difficult to understand why Katie would have thought that when she had been younger given her parent’s lack of interest. 

She went on to explain that when she grew up, she decided that she didn’t want to waste away in a house all day like her parents, however, she would use their money to get herself through college. They hadn’t seemed to care one way or the other, barely noticing that she had left. 

The whole time she had been at college, she received one message from them. Jared’s knuckles clenched at the words. Who in their right mind tells their kid “ _ when you fail, we’ll be waiting”?  _ Jared  detests these people, and he’ll probably never see them. 

_ Unfortunately  _ for them, she did get through college. 

Katie’s addiction began during her gap year after she finished her studies. Several things happened during that year. Her best friend died in a car accident. Her dog passed away from an incurable kidney disease. She fell down the stairs and broke her arm. Someone stole her car, and one of her ex’s accidentally set fire to her apartment. 

With all of those things happening one after the other, Katie had reached her limit. She considered going back home to her parents, but she didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of proving them right in any way. 

Instead, she started having one or two glasses of wine a night. Expensive wine. The kind of wine that when someone orders it at the bar, people assume they’re overcompensating for their small dick or lack of a personality. 

Over time, this led to a bottle a night, which then advanced to two bottles. Then, hard liquor came into play, and before she knew it, she had gotten to the point where she blew through two bottles of Rum, Whisky or whatever she had her hands on any particular night. 

She gave up three years of her life to alcohol before she met Jensen for the first time. According to Katie, Jensen had been on his way home from work when he saw her struggling to walk back to her apartment, using the sides to hold herself up. He had parked his car and gotten out to help her stand on her own two feet, never once mentioning the state she had been in. 

Jensen had managed to guide her all the way home. It had only been then that he asked her what she planned to do with the bottles. Katie tells Jared that she hadn’t been exactly pleasant on their first encounter, shooing him away in a slur. She had been surprised when Jensen stood his ground, suggesting that she turn in for the night instead of making herself worse. 

After a fair bit of persuasion, she had pretended to concede, hoping that he would believe her and go away. Somehow, she ended up inviting him into her house, and he cooked for her. 

The first time she tried Jensen’s food, she broke down in tears right in front of him. She laughs as she explains how she cried like a baby, blathering on about how her parents never loved her and now she was no better than them, which Jensen had listened intently to, pulling her into a hug. At the time, she hadn’t known about his aversion to mess, but he seemed to have forced himself to ignore it in that moment, choosing instead to hold her in his arms and rub her back. 

Her cheeks flush as she admits that at the  time, she would have been more than willing to take him to bed with her, drunk or not. Jared laughs at this on the outside. On the inside, he feels a sharp sting in his gut that has him grinding his teeth. 

It turns out, Jensen would begin paying her frequent visits after that, getting to know her story bit by bit, and then one day would convince her to start going to  _ Alcoholics Anonymous.  _ For a while, the idea of attending a meeting filled her with dread. Jensen promised that he would come with her to the meetings for support if that would make it easier for her. 

She agreed at that point, sitting next to him in a room full of people, listening to them tell their stories. Jensen supported her the whole time. He never pushed her to tell her own story. He told her that she would be able to do it in her own time, and she believed him. 

Eventually, she would tell her story. It had been freeing for her, being able to relate to all of these people who suffered with the same vice that she did.

The reason she found the courage to speak had been because Jensen lifted her up each  time she found herself reaching for the bottle, distracting her with a new hobby—cooking. Jensen would teach her to cook a new dish after each meeting, giving her the space that she needed to try it out for herself. She would then come to learn about his OCD, watching as he meticulously cleansed her entire kitchen with a determination she’d never seen before. 

Several sessions later, she found herself using cooking as an escape from her urge to drink, getting lost in all of the ingredients, pairing this and that together, and showing her result to Jensen, who would let it be known with his face that some of them belonged in the trash. 

Through trial and error, she became somewhat of a good cook, and decided that she could make a career out of this, for who would want an addict as a psychologist? 

She admits to Jared that she does think about how she used to want to help people resolve their issues, in the hopes that it might give her some perspective where her own past misgivings were concerned, which Jared understood on a personal level. 

“Anyway, after about a year of going to  _ AA  _ with Jensen, I asked if he would let me work at his restaurant, and he said yes,” Katie says, fondness in her eyes, “He really did save my life.” 

“I can see why you stuck around. I probably would have done all of those things in your position, to be honest.”

“Would you believe that he  _ still  _ comes to every meeting with me?” Katie mentions, shaking her head in disbelief, “I love that man.” 

“Oi,  Katnip , I’ve got dibs on marrying  Jentastic , so back off,” Chris asserts, slinging his arm around Jared’s shoulders and kissing him on the cheek, “Unless  Jarebare wants to get hitched, that is.” 

“What did I just walk into?” 

Jared raises his head at the voice, breath  stolen from him at the picture of Jensen hanging his jacket over a chair, shirt tight against his body, and jeans gifting him with a scandalous view of Jensen’s rear. 

He’s so well-proportioned that it has Jared wondering what he looks like underneath the layers, and just how well Jensen knows how to use his hips... He can imagine holding on to Jensen’s ass as the man thrusts his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into Jared’s body, and--

_ Fuck. I know it’s been a while, but this is not the time or place to be thinking about this. Knock it the fuck off.  _

“Let’s see... Chris pretty much just proposed to Jared,”  Danneel offers flatly, smirking around the rim of her glass. 

“Aww, Chrissy, did you get tired of waiting for me?” Jensen teases, sliding onto the chair beside him, “It’s not nice to reduce Jared to a consolation prize.” 

Chris scoffs indignantly, pulling Jared closer to his side, “Hey, at  least he might put out.” 

Jensen laughs merrily at that, and Jared appreciates the way his whole body goes with it, the laugh lines in his eyes filling Jared with a pleasant warmth. 

“Are you calling _my_ _Greenhorn_ a whore? Also, I told you, drop your pants and bend over, then we can talk business about putting out,” Jensen counters, provoking Jared to almost choke on his drink. A couple of slaps from Matt helps him to recover.

“You know what, you’re probably hot enough that I would do that for you _if_ I played for that team,” Chris admits, laughing along with Jensen as they continue to banter with each other. 

_ I think I need a breather.  _

Jared excuses himself from the group, finding his way to the men’s room, where he locks himself in one of the stalls. He sits on the lid of the toilet seat, taking in a few calming breaths. 

Despite the effort, it doesn’t work. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a day late, I'll admit. It was my Birthday on the 27th, and I already had to go to work and it was so fucking boring. When I got home, I just didn't feel motivated to do anything. I looked at the screen, saw the paragraphs that I already had written, and I was just like "Nah, fam." 
> 
> So sorry for keeping you waiting, guys!! :<
> 
> Warning: This Chapter contains mentions of suicide (it is not discussed, romanticised glorified, or a focal point, but I thought it was best to warn in case--if you or anyone you know is suffering, just know that there are people out there who are available to help you and please seek out prevention platforms in order to get yourself back on track to being the beautiful person you are :>) Also, mentions of sexual abuse as a child. AND, TRIGGER WARNING FOR THE 'R' word. I'm sure I don't need to type out what that word is, but I've heard that some people are actually, like, effected by the word alone, and I would hate to be the dude that triggers that.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the latest chapter, and thank you all for your comments so far. They really make my day. Especially that one about how you want to hang out with these people and be in this world. :) 
> 
> Love, 
> 
> Kieran.

Jensen’s forehead creases as he massages his temples while dismissing Matt’s suggestion that he have a glass of water. If  _ two drinks _ put him in this state, he would be ashamed of himself. While he may not drink himself into a stupor on a daily basis, he has enough confidence that he can hold his own where alcohol is concerned. 

“Dude, you all right?” Chris questions as he kneads Jensen’s shoulder. 

“I’m fine. My head just stings a little,” he replies, appreciating his friend’s care for his wellbeing, “I’ll go splash some water on my face. See if that helps.” 

He rises from his seat, navigating his way through tables and chairs in order to get to the men’s bathroom. At the foot of the door, he pauses for a moment. 

_ How long has he been in there?  _

Jensen enters the bathroom, nose crinkling at the stench of various mixtures of bodily waste. He hesitates after the first step, back leaning towards the exit. Every fibre of his being balks at the idea of venturing any further, however, Jensen ignores it. 

_ Washing my face in here will only make matters worse. This is fucking disgusting.  _

His body implores Jensen to go back the way he came, an  unseeable tug on the back of his shirt attempting to lead him away from the  _ hell  _ he finds himself in. Once again, he pushes it to the side, regardless of how much he might wish to succumb to its will. 

_ Something else’s  _ will grips him tighter. 

Jensen spots the only door in the bathroom that isn’t currently proudly exposing itself to public scrutiny. With a breath in through his mouth from under his shirt, he gives the door a light rap with his knuckles, his eyes taking note of the faint shadow beneath his feet. 

“You okay in there, Greenhorn?” 

As if to answer his question for him, his forehead throbs, causing him to drop his shirt. Jensen inwardly curses as the repulsive odours enter his nose once again while he captures his head between his thumb and forefinger, applying a small amount of pressure. 

“Greenhorn?” 

Somehow, Jensen  _ knows  _ that Jared sits beyond the door. There isn’t a single doubt in his mind that Jared’s the man that he’s calling out to right now. The knowledge of this provokes another stab of pain in his head, and Jensen slumps against the door. 

The bang reverberates in the room, rattling the doorframe. 

“It’s, uh, occupied,” Jared intones, sounding half asleep. 

Jensen feels a sense of relief wash over him at the response. He didn’t know what to expect when Jared had effectively ignored him a few moments ago. The irrational side of his brain assumed the worst, and he had been ready to kick the door down if need be. On the other hand, the rational part reasoned that he should refrain from jumping to conclusions. 

“Did you fall asleep in there?” Jensen questions, a humorous lilt to his voice at the implication. 

His hand lowers from his head and he takes a few steps back from the door as he secures a small bottle of sanitiser from his pocket. 

_ Thank fuck for that. What a shitty time to get a stupid headache.  _

“Dude, I would never forgive myself if I fell asleep in a  _ public  _ bathroom,” Jared replies with disdain, and Jensen nods his agreement to that. 

“Don’t tell me you were rubbing one out, then?” 

“I think that might be worse,” Jared rebukes as the door  _ clicks,  _ “Actually, someone couldn’t  _ pay me  _ enough to do that.” 

Jensen’s lips stretch when the door opens, revealing the younger man in his slightly dishevelled glory. His fingers itch to sort Jared’s hair out, but he refrains, choosing instead to make space for him to exit the cubicle. 

“Haven’t you heard the expression that  _ everyone has a price?”  _

Jared scoffs at that, nodding his thanks as Jensen lends him his bottle of sanitiser. He squeezes a few drops onto his palm and starts rubbing them together, “I would like to think that people would normally have a bit more integrity than that,” he says, passing the bottle back, “Unless they’re a sex-worker or stripper or porn actor, I can’t see why they would agree to do something they don’t actually  _ want  _ to do, you know?” 

“Yeah, I’m with you there. Though, if they were hot, then,” Jensen counters, gesturing with his hand for Jared to lead the way. He curses his eyes for lowering themselves without his permission to Jared’s titillating behind as he continues, “I can see why it  _ might be easier _ to convince them.” 

Jensen wets his lips, his body relaxing as he exits this  _ hellhole.  _ On a normal day, he would have avoided going in their altogether. Or, at least, not without protection. 

Outside the door, Jensen stops Jared with a hand on his shoulder. He briefly soaks up the warmth it transmits before retracting, “So do you  wanna tell me what you  _ were  _ doing in there?” 

_ Shit, that may have been too forward.  _

He watches as Jared processes his question. In the silence, he pays close attention to the stress lines on Jared’s face softening and reappearing moments later. If Jensen were to venture a guess, he would say that Jared’s on the fence as to whether or not he wants to let him in. Jensen can understand that, to a degree. He’s been in that position many times in his life. Far too many, in fact. 

In his experience, he eventually learnt that keeping things in only gives them the power to fester freely, propagating to the point where someone no longer has the ability to fend them off. He learnt that things only have power if it’s given that power. The more someone allows their bad thoughts to hang out in the back of their heads, ignored and unspoken, the stronger the hold they have over that person. 

Jensen went through this himself. Even to this day, he has struggles that he can’t overcome as easily as he would like. Unfortunately, that’s a part of life. The boogie man doesn’t leave because someone closes off all of the pathways. He leaves when someone has the strength to let him into the light and acknowledge that he or she will always be a part of that person, and that’s okay. 

Life has its challenges. Overcoming adversity happens to be one of them. Someone’s inner adversity could be considered the hardest test to overcome, and Jensen would assert that it’s the most vital to someone’s development. 

Would he be better off if he hadn’t gone through the things that he went through when he had been just a boy? Perhaps. Would he have the inner fortitude? Probably not. Jensen  _ hates  _ what happened to him every day of his life, and that’s fine, too. No one has to  _ like  _ the terrible things that happen to them out of their own control. The one thing that they  _ are  _ good for is  character building. 

Jensen’s past does creep up on him from time to time, and he will find himself in situations where he just wants to get out. This seems to come with the territory. Nevertheless, had he not gone through those traumas, the trivial matters that seem to ruin the average person’s life these days, would bring him to his knees. 

_ He _ doesn’t have that problem. 

“Katie told me about her past with addiction, and, uh, I had a couple of friends that lost their lives to it,” Jared says, avoiding eye contact, “It brought back a lot of memories.” 

_ That’s not all, though, is it?  _ _ I don’t know how I know that, but you’re leaving something out.  _

“I understand why that would be hard for you to hear,” Jensen replies, eyeing Jared’s crossed arms, “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“Nah, man. It’s fine. Judging from what Katie told me, you’ve done your fair share of being a shoulder to cry on enough as it is.” 

Jensen pats his own shoulder, “Well, it is pretty accommodating. You should try it for yourself,” he offers, attempting to keep up with Jared’s wayward eyes, “Are you sure  _ that’s it _ ?” 

Without physically feeling what Jared can, Jensen has this inkling that he’s being weighed down by this uncomfortable tension. There’s a tightness visible through the tics on his face, barely  detectable veins pulsing on his temples. Jensen wishes that he could take it away from him. He would rather deal with the force  _ himself _ than see the man suffer. 

“You really  _ don’t _ need to concern yourself with this, dude,” Jared remarks, his tone unconfrontational. 

“I would think that whether or not I want to  _ concern  _ myself with it is up to me. What’s  _ not  _ up to me is your choice to tell me what’s on your mind,” Jensen counters, resting his  hands on Jared’s shoulders, stepping closer into his space in order to make tracking his eyes easier, “Just know that I’m here ... if you need me.”

Jared flicks his eyes between Jensen’s hands, unperturbed by their presence. The facial tics cease at that moment, lightening the pressure in his cheeks. Jensen smiles at the small victory. The pads of his fingers flex on their perch, wanting to massage the tension out of the muscles beneath them. Jensen denies them their wish, an inaudible sigh leaving his lips. 

“Jesus, _no wonder_ they all love you.” 

“It goes both ways,” Jensen admits, dropping his hands regretfully, “Why don’t you come out with me to get some air? I think I need it after being in  _ there _ .” 

To his immediate delight, softening the blow like that manages to have Jared agreeing to accompany him. Jensen leads them both out of the bar, stopping by the table to briefly let the others know where they’re going and grab their drinks . Chris asked if he wanted him to come with them, but Jensen argued that the energy in the room would plummet without him, which had the group jeering their disagreements. 

In the commotion, Jensen guided Jared to the outside, finding a lone table with ambient lighting far enough away from the bar that anyone that happens to step outside won’t overhear them. He secures his own seat once Jared takes the one on the opposite side, shoulders hunched over and fists clenched on his thighs. 

_ If I’m  _ _ gonna _ _ get him to open up, I need him to be relaxed first.  _

“Chris seems to have really taken a liking to you.”

“Is that rare? I got the impression that he could get along with anyone,” Jared replies, and Jensen takes note of the man’s leg bouncing nervously  under the table. 

He shakes his head, “It’s not that it’s  _ rare.  _ He can make out like he gives a shit about anybody—actually  _ liking them _ is a different story.”

“In that case, I’m honoured.” 

“You should be,” Jensen agrees, smiling, “The man is an _excellent_ judge of character.” 

Jared returns his smile, knees slowing their solo dance, “He’s surprisingly easy to talk to... Not in general, but, uh, about other stuff...”

_ Other stuff? What does he mean?  _

"It’s always great to have someone that you feel comfortable talking about... _stuff_ with,” Jensen concurs, eyes taking in the scratched paint job coating the table. He doesn’t understand why knowing Jared would rather confide in Chris hurts him in some way, but he wants to, “I guess I shouldn’t ask what you and him talked about...”

When Jensen raises his eyes, he sees Jared hiding his face in his glass. There’s something about the disconnect that riles him. The anger he feels isn’t directed at Jared... He’s pissed off with himself for not being  _ good enough  _ to be the person Jared chooses to open up to. None of it makes a lick of sense since they haven’t known each other very long. Barely a month has gone by if he leaves out their one interaction during school. For some reason, the longer he spends in Jared’s company, the further he’s pulled into his orbit—most  notably when he experiences one of those heat episodes.

Jared hasn’t done anything wrong, of course. He has no clue the kind of effect that he’s having on Jensen. That makes two of them, though. Jensen has tossed and turned several nights over ignoring these sudden urges where Jared is concerned. The escalation admittedly intensified after witnessing the man in his birthday suit, even if he’d been one step away from that during their first encounter. He remembers kicking himself for not barging in a few moments later, and then chewing himself out for being a pervert. 

The real kicker is that he’s exactly Jensen’s type. Tall, long-legged. _Great ass_. Funny. Good with banter. Good with people. Compassionate. Has a laugh to die for. Jensen can’t attest for Jared’s erect length; however, his soft length showed a lot of promise. He doesn’t want it in his back door, but he’ll _gladly_ suck on that bad boy. The only negative Jensen can think of right now is his lack of progression. Jared needs to be upfront about what he wants to do as a Chef—he needs to  _ tell  _ Jensen he wants to do more than  deal with the scraps. 

“I guess with you being my boss and all, I should probably tell you,” Jared says, snapping Jensen out of his musings, “And not just that—you  _ deserve  _ to know after all the times you’ve helped me with _it_ already,” Jared adds, laughter not meeting his eyes. 

Jensen opened his ears fully to Jared’s story. There could have been a multiple-vehicle collision happening to the right of them, and he wouldn't even register the sirens of the emergency forces converging on the scene to see to the injured. As Jared explained, questions that Jensen had parading around his mind since they met were satisfied, retreating with the rest of the dark patches that had yet to see the light. 

Hearing that Jared faced ridicule from people that he once considered friends due to his uncontrollable condition sickened Jensen. Kids can be cruel. This is something that is widely accepted, unfortunately. If Jensen had known about the injustices when he was at school, he would have protected Jared. 

It thrills him to know that Jared found friends that accepted him without question, Chad being the first. At the time, Jensen didn’t ask if he was the same man Jared referred to the other night when trying to figure out who asked after him. He never _did_ get an answer on that. 

Jensen can’t believe the  _ amount _ of Doctors from the medical and science professions, respectfully, that performed experiments on him in order to discover the reason for his condition. Jensen couldn’t imagine going through those kinds of procedures at such a young age. It had been bad enough when he landed himself in hospital after getting into his Dad’s office—never again will he touch or eat something he knows  _ nothing _ about. 

The heat that Jared emits puts to bed Jensen’s theory about the bag of ice he used to lower the man's temperature to rest. While seeing that had been pretty  _ awesome,  _ seeing it had also been scary. It’s not every day that someone watches a fully-grown man melt ice, after all. 

Jared’s shoulders deflate when he admits that even after all of that they never managed to discover what’s wrong with him. Jensen understands how that could leave someone feeling dejected—even someone as strong as Jared. 

It reminds him of when he had been coming to terms with his sexuality. 

_ I’m not opening that can of worms.  _

"So, yeah... That’s my story, I guess.” 

“You’re so  _ brave _ , dude. You  _ should _ be proud of yourself, really,” Jensen says, highlighting his suggestion with a pointed finger, “I don’t think many in your situation would be putting themselves out there, making a name for themselves—not letting their... not  _ faults _ , but  _ challenges  _ stop them from living their lives.” 

Jared twiddles his thumbs in front of him, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth, “Yeah, well... Luckily, my parents had enough money to silence anyone from school that may have thought about outing me to the public,” he replies, relief visible all over his body. 

“That  _ is  _ lucky.”

“Yeah,” Jared agrees, rubbing the pad of his right thumb over his left thumbnail. 

Jensen can feel the tension in the air. Jared bared his soul, and there’s still this overwhelming sense of force weighing down his entire body. If there were a way for him to relieve that pressure, Jensen would do it in a  heartbeat . The sad truth is that he doesn’t know what to do to make it better, and that makes him feel worse. 

He continues to have an inkling that there’s something else Jared doesn’t want to tell him. _After that_, Jensen’s not expecting him to say any more, for it wouldn’t be fair. Somehow, he doesn’t think  it’s common practise to witness someone reveal their life story and then ask for more. 

What should he do here, though? If he could do what he wanted, he would wrap the man up in a hug and tell him that he’s incredible and should  _ never  _ doubt himself, but that’s not realistic in this context. That kind of relationship has not been established between them. 

_ I guess I could do something to take the spotlight off him?  _

“How’s this? You can ask me one question, and no matter what it is—I'll answer it. Let your imagination run wild.” 

* * *

_ Any question I want to ask?... But only one, huh...  _

Jared thinks hard about what he wants to ask. He’s not sure where this sudden turn of events came from, but he’ll accept it willingly if it takes the heat off him for a couple of seconds. This is a great chance to get an answer to one of his burning questions... He has no idea which one to fire off, though. 

Jensen has been very open with him from the start. There are only a couple of things that he seems to keep to himself or downplay. His OCD being one of them. Jared’s found himself pondering the implications of that for a long time. His Mother is saddled with the same disorder, cleaning things ten times over when someone can already easily make out their own reflection in the surface. 

It amazes Jared how thorough she can be. She told him that she was influenced by his Grandmother, who had actually been worse than  _ she was _ with it. Jared would have liked to see that—or maybe he would rather not. His Mother used to relegate him to the backyard when she wanted to blitz the entire house. He can only imagine where his Grandmother would have had him go during that time. 

The more he thinks about their OCDs, the more curious he is to find out where Jensen’s stems from. He imagines it’s likely similar to his own Mother’s situation. It’s not uncommon for offspring to develop their parent’s traits, after all. 

Jared supposes it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“All right, uh, how did you develop your OCD?” 

Jensen’s reaction has Jared worrying that he overstepped his bounds. A moment before, the man had an encouraging smile on his face, waiting patiently for Jared to issue his  _ one  _ question. The second he  _ voiced _ his question, Jensen’s complexion paled to a sickly degree. His eyes slammed shut, crinkling at the corners from the force at which Jensen held them closed. On top of the table, his knuckles clenched hard enough to whiten the flesh encasing them, and his Adam’s apple bobbed with trepidation. 

“Forget I asked that... I’ll, uh, ask something el--”

“No, it’s fine,” Jensen insists, breathing heavily through his nose, “I said you could ask one question, and  _ no matter what  _ that question was, I would answer it, so...,” he trails off, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve, “I was... sexually abused as a child... It was my elementary school teacher... when I was, uh,... seven, until I left.” 

Here Jared was thinking that it might be something like he fell in a pile of mud when he was a kid, and now he’s being told that Jensen was sexually fucking abused... Jared feels sick. He wants to throw up, or kill someone. He may have suffered from this unidentifiable condition for most of his life, but he was never... _Never_ that. Never something that  _ awful.  _ How could Jensen even  _ think  _ that telling him this is a fair exchange? It’s not. Jensen’s situation doesn’t compare—it's far more tragic by any stretch of the imagination. 

Jared really wants to hurt  _ whoever  _ did that to this man. This incredible, selfless, passionate,  beautiful man who somehow... Somehow... Somehow became who he is today, despite what they did. Jared doesn’t need to know the details. In fact, he really doesn’t think he can stomach it. 

“Just for clarity, uh,... my abuser was a woman.” 

“Dude, I’m so sorry,” Jared says, rounding the table before he even knows where his body is taking him. He plants himself next to Jensen, attaching his hand to the man’s stiff shoulders, “I hope that fucker got what she deserved.” 

Jensen doesn’t shrug him off, so Jared assumes this action is fine as the man replies, “She would have gotten away with it if my parents’ weren’t as rich as they are. Kind of like your parent’s. They weren’t  gonna stop until she slept behind bars.” 

_ My Mom probably would have killed her.  _

“I probably shouldn’t ask, but is she still there?” 

Jensen grins, “She killed herself... Took the easy way out... Absolved herself of all her  _ guilt.” _

“Coward,” Jared whispers under his breath, throat tight. 

“You know the worst part?... The worst part is that when it got out that it happened to me, I was  _ congratulated,”  _ Jensen spits the last word with disdain, “I was told that it wasn’t  _ sexual abuse,  _ that it wasn’t  _ rape— _ that I should have considered myself  _ lucky  _ to have been  _ chosen  _ to be her  _ toy.”  _

”That’s so... wrong,” Jared replies, tears pricking at his eyes.

“I was supposed to continue on to the middle school after elementary, but my parents’ decided to move me to a different school. They encouraged me not to talk about it with others... Said they wouldn’t understand at that age,” Jensen adds, running his hand down his face, “And that was  _ before  _ I realised I was gay,” he concludes, forcing a wan smile. 

They lock eyes then, and a spark of  _ something  _ hits Jared like a truck. He doesn’t know what to make of all of this. All he does know is that he wishes he could take that look of self-disgust off Jensen’s face forever. A look like that doesn’t belong on someone like him. Not by a long stretch. 

Jensen conquered mountains while the rest of the world merely invented dragons to slay. This man deserves every good thing that has come to him up until this point, and beyond. Jared finds himself wanting—no,  _ needing  _ to be one of those good things. 

Time continues to drift on by as they remain locked in a mutual stand-off, both seeking to peek behind the windows of their respective souls, longing for a sign of what to do next. What is the next move for them? Where should they go from here? Why does the Earth suddenly feel like it’s postponed its natural circulation in order to witness the event unfolding on its soil? 

Jared’s heart pitter-patters against his chest, his breaths coming out in warm puffs of air, grazing Jensen’s  pillowy looking lips. He tracks the moonlight dancing off Jensen’s shimmering bottom lip, enticing him with its allure. 

He doesn’t _notice_ his head inching forward. He doesn’t _notice_ Jensen doing the same. He doesn't _notice_ that the gap between them is getting lesser and lesser. He doesn’t_ notice_ that there’s a hand cupping his cheek, tilting his head. He doesn’t_ notice_ that wet, soft lips are mere millimetres from his own.

Jared’s not watching. He doesn’t want to see it. He just wants to _feel it._

Glass shatters against the wall to their left, and it breaks the haze. 

The moment is over... 

For now. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the latest chapter :) 
> 
> Love, Kieran.

_ I can’t have you getting distracted now, Jared. Not when we have so many things to accomplish together.  _

Shrouded on the other side of the street, the man grins at his own handy work. He watches the bitter liquid slide down the cracks in the wall, beginning to pool on the ground as the two men return to the scene after running into the bar to fetch something. He can see that they opted to clear up the mess themselves. 

That feels right. The admittedly jaw-droppingly handsome man  _ does  _ own a restaurant, after all. Not to mention, Jared happens to be a rather considerate person. It’s one of the qualities he’s come to enjoy about the man. 

Yes, that_ unwavering_ passionate disposition seen only in very few people these days. 

While he doesn’t necessarily wish to interfere with Jared’s love life, he worries that it would get in the way of _his_ goal here. If Jared is shacking up with _Mr Adonis_ over there, he might feel obligated to fill him on the plan. 

He can’t have that. The fewer people know about their future goals, the better. This adventure is for both of them to take together, and_ no one else. _

He didn’t devote his life to this cause, give up on  _ ever _ having a semblance of a  _ normal  _ life, just for some disgustingly good-looking dude to ruin everything with a simple kiss. 

No, he will _not_ accept that. 

When he’s finished with Jared, the man will be free to do whatever or whoever he wants. For now, however, it’s imperative that he stick to the plan. 

The plan that he doesn’t know yet. But he will know that plan. All in good time. He’s going to reveal himself. He just needs more time. More time to figure out what it is that he _wants to do_ exactly. 

What even is that anyway? He now knows that Jared_ is_ the man in the articles. He knows _where_ he lives. He knows _where_ he goes to work. He knows that he has a particular penchant for white chocolate over the other flavours, but he has no definite idea for how and when he’s going to execute his plan. 

The longer he waits, the more Jared has an opportunity to mess things up before they get off the ground. That would be extremely problematic for both of them. 

Look at him, acting as if he’s already _done something wrong_ here. Other than mild stalking, he’s kept his nose clean. 

Stalking might be a stretch... Or is it? Define_ stalking_... 

He shrugs, catching the tail end of Jared and Jensen walking off with their drinks in hand, dustpan filled with glass in the other. There’s this look of extreme discomfort on Jensen’s face that ebbs and flows between minute shoulder collisions shared between the two. 

_ Interesting. Jared seems to have a positive effect on this man. I have no idea what they talked about, but it appears as though it’s only brought them closer together.  _

If someone wanted to throw ideas at the wall until one stuck, they would say that what he’s feeling right now is jealousy. And, in a sense, he would have to agree with them. This has nothing to do with romantic jealousy, shockingly. 

Despite his loss of _composure_ at seeing Jensen, he’s actually straight. What does make him somewhat jealous, is that when he and Jared do eventually interact with each other for the first time, he won’t be able to vocalise his intentions quite as well as Jensen could, for example. 

Talking to people has never been his strong suit. 

He  _ can  _ talk to them. But he can’t talk to them. He_ can_ talk to them sometimes. But he can’t talk to them a lot of the time. People are hard. They don’t understand what he means, they misinterpret his words. They find him creepy... 

Not that it matters. Their opinions don’t mean anything to him as long as he’s able to get what he wants out of it. Jared could hate his guts at the end of their journey, and it wouldn’t phase him at all. It’s what he’s expecting, at the end of the day. People are _always_ going to reduce him to an egotistical maniac, and nothing else. 

Finished with his  _ observations,  _ he straightens his jacket, pockets his hands and strides off down the street, illuminated by the motion  sensored street lights. 

* * *

Something has to have happened the other night. Chris is sure of it. He has a sense for these things, and they’re telling him that it’s worth looking into. While it may not be any of his business, his curiosity will thank him for getting to the bottom of it. 

He first noticed something when Jensen walked into the kitchen during Lunchtime. The reason that this is suspicious is because Jensen  _ rarely  _ leaves the floor at peak times when he doesn’t have a shit ton of things to do in his office. Nevertheless, Jensen graced them with his presence and then proceeded to _ personally  _ train Jared. 

Now, Jensen dishing out his knowledge isn’t uncommon, so to speak. He will  _ always  _ help where he can, for he knows better than _all of them combined_ where the art of cooking is concerned. The shocking part is him  _ demonstrating  _ more than once. 

Normally, Jensen will briefly explain what it is that the person has to do and then stand by the wayside as they try it for themselves--the exception to this rule being those with no knowledge of the subject--Not go through the entire thing step by step, waiting patiently in between explanations for the other person to comprehend what he’s saying. 

Jared is a smart man. Chris knew that after overseeing him during his first day.  So, Chris doesn’t understand _why_ Jensen is dragging all of this out, as if he’s attempting to prolong their interaction... 

Jensen doesn’t seem to be the only guilty one in the affair. Jared has been tuning into his words of wisdom like a child being read their favourite bedtime story, all doe-eyed and full of smiles. 

There’s an atmosphere around the two of them that has Chris thinking the usual  _ flirting  _ they all do is being sullied by that thing people call  _ genuine attraction _ . Chris doesn’t have a problem with it, of course. It’s been far too long since Jensen last had someone in his life that made him feel any type of way, really. 

As for Jared, Chris gets the idea that the man probably avoids relationships due to his condition. That  _ is understandable, _ however, Chris would want to encourage Jared to not allow this thing that he can’t control to dictate what he can and cannot do. 

The big  doofus deserves to be happy just like the rest of the world. 

Based off the team’s reaction, he’s not the only one that has picked up on these  _ changes  _ in their interactions with each other. Katie keeps nervous laughing to herself. Matt looks caught between throwing up at how adorable it is and demanding to be the ring-bearer at their wedding.  Danneel seems...  _ quieter  _ than usual, and Genevieve gives Chris the impression that she’s going to unleash one of those  fangirl squeals any minute now. 

To his credit, he’s trying not to listen to what they’re saying and focus on his work, but it’s  _ hard.  _

“Dude, aren’t you keeping your audience waiting? I don’t want people complaining about my food because I stole  their lunchtime entertainment.” 

“I came willingly--”

“That’s what she said,” Matt interjects, and the room collectively rolls their eyes at the epic fail, “You guys suck. That was a good one.” 

“Keep dreaming, Matty-paddy,” Katie rebukes as she dices another swede. 

“I honestly don’t know why you thought that would work, Matt. Do I need to check your temperature?” Jensen teases, smirking at him. 

“Maybe. You grab the thermometer and I’ll be waiting for you bent over the counter,” Matt replies dryly, adding another layer of cheese to a panini. 

“Chris, you asshole. I told you about that dream in confidence,” Jensen raves, putting on a farce of being deeply upset by Chris’s disloyalty. 

“It’s your fault for trusting me to keep that one to myself,” Chris plays along, soaking another plate, “You  _ tell me  _ who would be able to keep that one in. Seriously?” 

“It’s not like it’s a secret that Jensen has wanted to bed me from the word go,” Matt adds, snickering under his breath, “Besides, the man is free to do what he wants in his dreams.” 

“Gay, straight, whatever else, if you tell me you wouldn’t want to sleep with Jensen, you’re lying to yourself. That’s a fact,” Katie says, scraping her cubes of swede into the waiting receptacle. 

Chris nods along to her assessment, “I’m sure we’ve already fucked in a parallel universe.” 

“And it would have been the best sex of your life, guaranteed,” Jensen intones, laughing along with the rest of the group.

“Another reason Jensen’s sexuality is truly a tragedy,”  Danneel contends, and Chris can’t be sure as to whether or not she’s_ joking_ at this point. 

“Why does everyone want to sleep with me all of a sudden? I don’t have enough of me to go around, guys. I’m sorry,” Jensen stresses, gesticulating with his hands in a placating manner, as if the team were converging on him like a pack of hungry wolves. 

“Just so you don’t feel left out of the loop, Jared, Jensen is one of those dudes that doesn’t realise just how breathtakingly gorgeous they are,” Genevieve informs, laughing at Jensen’s bemused expression. 

“Yeah, I got that impression,” Jared admits, cheeks pink with... Chris isn’t sure. 

Danneel rings the bell for the next round of orders to be collected, temporarily cutting off the banter. As Martinez and Jack rush to grab the finished plates, confirming with  Danneel where they’re going to, Chris thinks back to their night out. 

From what he can remember—he did put a few away—Jensen had taken Jared outside to  _ talk _ , and when they came back inside, something about them seemed  _ different.  _ Chris had been staring through beer goggles by that point, but he still clocked the subtle alterations to their interactions.

Jared had seemed taken aback by  _ something.  _ Jensen had seemed  _ disappointed. _ By what, Chris hasn’t the slightest clue. If he had to guess, he would say that something went down between the two of them that they’ve decided to ignore,_ for now. _ _ _

He has a few ideas as to what that may have been, but he’s never subscribed to the idea of speculations as a whole. He would rather get to the bottom of it and then make his judgements. 

A part of him wants to outright ask Jared or Jensen what happened, since he’s close with both of them, and he can’t see a reason that they would keep him out of the loop._ Jokes aside_, Chris is a very loyal person. If someone discloses something personal to him, they can be damn sure that not a soul will hear it from him. Not in this life or the next. 

Plenty of secrets have been told to him that he will take to the grave. Secrets that could certainly have him seem momentarily interesting to complete strangers. He doesn’t care about that, though. He cares about the person that had the courage to tell him about the skeletons in their closet. 

Secrets have this power of bringing people closer together. _Equally_, they can tear people apart without missing a beat. They are not to be trifled with. 

For all he knows, they could all be reading far too much into things. Jensen flirts with all of them. They all flirt with each other. Jared has cemented himself as part of the group, so flirty banter is bound to come along with that. 

Still, the context of the  _ banter  _ is suspect. 

If the two of them want to bump uglies, Chris will not stand in their way. He would rather they just come right and say it. Not beat around the bush,  umming and  ahhing over their respective decisions to pursue whatever it is. 

Chris has known Jensen for a  _ very  _ long time. If it hadn’t been for Jensen, Matt might not be here today. 

Seven years ago, Matt had been a male model. He travelled all over the world, walking the runway, building his reputation year after year. With his popularity increasing, _expectations_ rose along with it. If he planned to keep up his body weight and physical allure, he felt he would have to start watching his diet more  closely . 

At first, he skipped a couple of meals. Matt would refuse to eat anything too carb-heavy or full of sugars, resorting to filling himself with a selection of vegetables and enough meat to maintain his figure. 

After a while, he began believing that it didn’t matter how much he monitored what he had been eating, he would still gain the weight that he was _desperate_ to avoid. 

Back then, Chris had been Matt’s manager. He  _ hated  _ seeing what he was becoming, and he  _ hated himself _ even more for not realising it sooner. Matt would make a conscious effort of ensuring that Chris never saw how much food hadn’t been entering his stomach, but rather the trash can. He succeeded in doing this by consistently throwing out the trash at the early hours of the morning, when Chris had still been sleeping. 

Chris had inklings during that time. In a sense, he had been too far gone to reach deep enough to make a connection. Matt covered his tracks well, maintaining his physique without having to show what had been lying underneath the surface to anyone it would matter to. 

Then, one day, Chris had walked in just when Matt had been coming out of the bathroom. Thinking about how his ribs looked as though they were about to break through Matt’s skin still sickens Chris to this day. He couldn’t understand how someone could allow themselves to get to that state, and he couldn’t comprehend why Matt wouldn’t talk to him if that was what he had been going through. 

They had gotten into an argument. _A bad one_. Matt had told him to fuck off, threatening to fire him as his manager. Chris had refused to let it end there. He bought a shit ton of food, _broke his way_ into Matt’s apartment, and laid out everything he had on the table, telling Matt that he could eat whatever he felt like eating—insisting that if he didn’t want any of it, Chris would search the globe to find something that he _would_ eat. 

Matt had dismissed the food entirely, turning away with a queasy look on his face. That’s when Chris understood that the problem ran deeper than simply watching his weight. 

Over the next few months, Chris would search around for specialists that could help Matt get back to eating more than just a measly cube of cheese on a good day. Unfortunately, he had no such luck. Matt would either refuse to sit down and talk with them, or their advice would fall on deaf ears. 

Chris had no idea what he would have to do to help his friend, and he had started to reach a point where he found it difficult to look at the man. _And himself_. He had taken to avoiding being in front of mirrors, for he didn’t want to see how much of a failure he had become. 

Not one to give up, Chris had dragged Matt to an up and coming restaurant near one of their pending gigs. The first time he stepped inside  _ The Good Kind of Ackles,  _ Chris had felt this instant familiarity that made zero sense to him in the moment, but he would soon come to understand that he had not been alone in experiencing it. 

Two years after Matt’s descent into his eating disorder,  _ The Good Kind of Ackles  _ had been in its infancy. It had a third of the staff that it has now, Jensen worked the front of house, ran food, took orders, ran the kitchen as head chef—_he did everything._

Dannel had been there, and Genevieve. A couple of other ex-staff members that Chris assumed owed Jensen a favour at the time helped out where they could, but they had nothing on the team they have now. 

Walking inside felt like coming home._ It still does._ Chris wholeheartedly considers this place his home away from home, and nothing will ever change that. 

Jensen had spotted them come in, dazzling them with a smile that could have quite possibly brought about world peace. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t experienced a  _ no homo  _ moment when he first came face to face with the man. He gets more attractive as the years go by. 

It’s a medical mystery. 

Chris had asked what was on the menu, and Jensen went over each one in detail, drawing them in with the ease at which he listed the selections. His voice added to the seduction, routing Chris to the spot as his mouth watered over the titillating descriptions. 

Eventually, Chris had placed his order, guiding Matt over to their table. Surprisingly, it hadn’t taken that long for their food to be served to them. When Chris took the first bite, he moaned around the fork in his mouth, cheeks blossoming with a deep red that reached the tips of his ears. 

Matt had been watching him from the other side of the table, and Chris noticed that his friends' lips had started to moisten at the enrapturing aroma wafting off the plate set in front of him. 

Something about Jensen’s food had enticed Matt. One second he had been staring down at his plate. _The next,_ he had gathered up his fork and stabbed it into the meat. Chris had paused in his own feeding, hope welling up inside him as Matt wrapped his lips around the cut of pork, breaking it apart with his teeth. 

It was as though a barely flickering flame expanded into a conflagration, as Matt shoved piece after piece into his mouth, tears cascading down his face. Chris had wanted to wipe those tears for him, but he hadn’t been willing to risk interrupting what had been going on before his eyes. 

Matt had finished his plate in record time, leaving no morsel left untouched. The realisation dawned on Chris at that moment that Jensen’s food could be the answer to their problems, and he had been willing to do anything in order to ensure that Matt dined on Jensen’s food every night until he got back to his old self.

With a plan in mind, Chris had set out to make it happen. He had to excuse himself from the table in order to speak to Jensen one on one, however, not before lying to Matt that he would be going off to find the bathroom. 

Chris had found Jensen rather quickly. He had been coming out of the kitchen with more dishes than one person should be able to handle. Seeing an opportunity, Chris had offered to help the man out with his heavy load, which Jensen had been appreciative of, thanking him kindly as they both walked to the waiting table. 

Once Jensen wished his customers a great meal, Chris had asked Jensen if he could have a minute of his time, to which Jensen did agree, calling out to Danneel to take over for a few minutes. 

Jensen had led them to a quiet part of the restaurant, suggesting that Chris get to the point in the politest way he could muster. Chris had instantly respected Jensen for his _undeniable commitment_ to his job, reeling off right away that Matt was a male model with an eating disorder, and that he had been going without a proper meal for two years now. 

When Jensen had heard that Matt wolfed down his food, he offered to set up a collection service purely for Chris. At his suggestion, Chris had felt his knees go weak. He hadn’t even needed to negotiate—Jensen beat him to the punch, promising to have breakfast, lunch and dinner prepped and ready to go at their earliest convenience, even going so far as to state that he would come into work an hour earlier to prepare Matt’s meals. 

Over the next few months after their first meeting, Chris had driven down to  _ The Good Kind of Ackles  _ every morning at 07:00 AM on the dot to pick up Matt’s meals for the day. _Not once_ had Jensen let him down, or not been waiting for him outside the door. And not once did he not ask after Matt, sending his best wishes for his speedy recovery. 

Chris had wanted to give back to the man. He had offered him a shitload of money, which Jensen refused point-blank. The bastard didn’t even charge him for Matt’s meals.

For the longest time, Chris could not understand how someone could be so giving to a couple of perfect strangers. They had money to spend. They had things they could offer in return for his service. They probably had _more money than Jensen_ at the time, separate from each other. And yet, Jensen never once charged him. 

On the first pick up, Chris had gotten out his wallet, asking for the damage. Jensen had looked at him, looked at his wallet, looked back up at his face, and then shook his head, saying,  _ “I don’t want your money. I want your friend to get better. Come for dinner when he’s fully recovered. I’ll charge you then. Until that time comes around, though, your money is no good here.”  _

Without thinking, Chris has reached out for a hug which Jensen had accepted. He had been so warm and smelt incredible. Chris couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so secure in someone’s embrace. There’s a quiet power hidden inside Jensen that comforts the people around him, despite his inner demons. 

At the end of the two months, Matt had gotten back to his old self, and he had made it his mission to repay Jensen for saving his life. He quit male modelling at Jensen's suggestion, learnt how to cook from the man himself, along with Chris, and they would eventually land themselves in the kitchen, cooking alongside their  _ hero.  _

Chris feels his stomach rumble. 

_ Shit. I need to stop thinking about Jensen’s cooking.  _

“Katnip,” Chris calls, tone serious, “I think I need to go to AA with you.” 

“Why?” Katie laughs at his suggestion. 

“I’m having cravings for Jensen’s cooking—Don't laugh! It’s not funny, all right?” 

“I’m sorry,” Katie says, not looking sorry at all, “It’s just that I can see you talking to the group about how you just can’t stop yourself from thinking about how the seasoning brings out the  flavour , and then everyone staring at you like you’re a fucking moron.” 

“He is a moron,” Matt adds, avoiding a swipe to the back of his head. 

“You guys are such assholes.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while. I quit smoking this week, so I'm finding it a little difficult to focus. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope that you enjoy it. 
> 
> Love, Kieran.

With each day that passes, Jared feels a sense of impending doom. Whether that be the cold spots that raise the fine hairs on his arms or the lingering looks turning his bones to figurative mush, Jared can’t be sure that he can last much longer at this point. 

Every day, he’s bombarded with imagery of Jensen in all varying stages of undress. It doesn’t help that even picturing the man in a disgusting, multi-coloured, saturated beyond compare burlap sack does nothing to quell the desire that comes along with it, for Jensen can pull  _ anything  _ off. If it doesn’t happen to suit his body for whatever reason, his face will  _ more  _ than make up for that. 

Jared slumps against the back of his door, allowing held in air to leave his body. He knows that he’s in a dangerous situation. That much became clear after his conversation with Jensen. Now, if Jensen would have done the right thing by making himself out to be a complete and total asshole, _Jared_ would not be in this mess.

Quite the opposite had been gleaned from that encounter. Jensen not only has a heart of gold, and wants to help as many people as he can, he’s also a survivor of something sickening to think about. Jared found himself needing to throw up, not from alcohol, but the thought of young Jensen suffering in silence through such an ordeal. 

Jensen hadn’t given Jared the full details, _thankfully._ Jared’s not sure he would be able to handle actually knowing the  _ entire  _ story. It’s one thing to hear about a fully-grown adult being abused by someone they trusted, knew, respected, etc. The same thing involving a _child_ elicits emotions in Jared that he didn’t know he had. 

In that moment, when Jensen told him the truth about his past, Jared wished with all of his might that he could time travel to that instant, and save young Jensen so that he would never have to suffer like he has all of these years. 

Jared put two and two together at the reveal. Jensen said that  _ she _ was the reason that he has a penchant for cleaning, and that much is true, of course. The one part that Jared hadn’t been able to make sense of until then was the correlation between the two. Once it  _ did  _ sink in, Jared felt foolish for not realising it sooner. 

Who wouldn’t feel dirty after having that done to them? Jared shakes his head as he lowers to the ground, laying his legs out flat in front of him. He’s not sure if he has the will to move any further into his house right now. 

It’s been this way since they had that conversation. He gets in from work, he slumps against the door, and he stays there staring into space until something snaps him out of his haze long enough to get him off the ground. Working in a kitchen means that he doesn’t even have to cook for himself when he gets home anymore, so there isn’t much that he has to do, other than shower. 

Which he will do. Jared never wants to get to a point where he doesn’t shower _at least_ once a day. This has him wondering how often Jensen showers... Not in a dirty way. For the time being, his head isn’t in the gutter when thinking about the man. Jensen could be the type to shower more than twice a day—which would certainly explain to Jared why he always looks flawless. 

Without Jared’s knowledge, there could be a shower at the restaurant that Jensen uses—or he could sneak off during the day to wash. The thought almost has Jared laughing, but he stops himself, thinking that it would be disrespectful to laugh at something that Jensen may not be able to control, if any of his speculations are true, that is. 

In other news, Jared figured out what Jensen meant by it partly being up to him. Turns out, he just had to show that he wanted it more. It only took him just over three weeks to figure that part out, so he should give himself  _ some  _ credit. Jared smirks  snarkily , bonking the back of his head against the door as a small punishment for his obliviousness. 

_ It was right there in front of my eyes, and I still couldn’t see it. Chris even hinted at it to me. Ugh.  _

Jared shrugs off his minute self-loathing, about ready to get up off the floor and make himself useful. Ever since Jensen cleaned his house that day, Jared’s been making an effort to ensure that it stays at that standard. He’s not sure what inspired his newfound care for his home, but he does have his suspicions that seeing his house as  _ clean and pristine  _ as it had been after Jensen finished with it, may have persuaded him to wish to maintain that attractive aesthetic. 

As he’s lifting himself off the ground, he feels something under his bum that_ isn’t_ his doormat. Jared frowns, awkwardly turning his body with his hip to enable him to reach the foreign object. His fingers backtrack at the initial touch as if burned, a sudden bout of anxiety hitting Jared like a truck from all angles. 

There’s a voice within telling him that he should just_ leave_ whatever it is where it is and never think about it again, curiosity be damned. Jared can’t remember ever being the type to flat out reject his curious nature, but he’s willing to let it go in _this_ instance. 

_Why_, though? He has no idea what it is that he’s even avoiding. How could he be so sure that it’s something he doesn’t want to see? He’s not a clairvoyant. Not in this lifetime, anyway. There’s no reason that he should run away with his tail between his legs—not without at least knowing what he’s dealing with. 

Jared nods to himself, resigned to his fate. With a quick deep breath in through his nose, he grips the object between his fingers and whips it out from underneath him. 

Once he finds the courage to peel open his eyes, he takes a quick peek at what looks to be... an envelope.

_ It’s just a letter. Chill out, dude.  _

He can’t believe he was freaking out so much over a _piece of paper_. Jared laughs aloud to himself, afraid that he might be going insane. He rips open the envelope in no time at all, securing the piece of paper folded inside. 

Jared unfolds it, flattening it out so that he can read its contents fully. The first thing that he notices is a picture of an admittedly sweet looking car. Jared has no idea what the make is, and the letter conveniently has left that part out. Jared clicks his tongue. If this person wants to sell their car, they’re going to have to  _ at least  _ tell their potential buyers what the make and model is. 

On the right side of the page, Jared spots a couple of misspelt words. He hates that he’s like this, but he can’t stand bad spelling. If there was going to be something that put him off even considering buying this car, it would be the owner not caring enough to run their letter through spell-check. It’s  _ not that hard  _ to do. Jared will never understand some people, especially when they’re trying to shift their car for goodness sake. 

While he peruses the letter, Jared’s blood turns ice cold as a haunting theory develops in his mind. His eyes begin flicking back and forth from left to right, analysing the evidence and piecing together the fractures in his proposal. 

After a while, Jared hoists himself up off the ground, dashing to his stationary draw. He grabs the closest pen that he can find, turning the letter over to start writing down his findings. 

What he comes up with terrifies him. 

“Just, Are, Red, Every, Dawn, Instant, Travel, Sun, Tents, Information, Media, Electric, West, Entry, Middle, Elegant, Trek...  Jared,... it’s time... we met.” 

Could this be a coincidence? Could Jared simply be making something out of nothing? Is that even possible with this outcome? Jared feels sick to his stomach. What should he make of this? What should he do next? What if this is a threat? What if this person has something on him? Why do they want to meet him?... 

Jared throws the letter to the ground,  smushing it with his foot. While it’s_ true_ that there had been _zero_ threats in the message, it’s not difficult for him to imagine many different ways in which those words could be expressed by this random person. 

The anxiety from earlier comes back with a vengeance, spurred on by this newfound golden ticket to latch onto. Jared feels it in his knees, but he refuses to allow them to give out. He’s done that far too much lately—he doesn’t want to be weak anymore, he just wants to be left alone. 

There’s a sinking suspicion that he has had for a couple of weeks now that  _ someone  _ knows who he is. He’s not sure how he even got the idea in his head that that could be the case, however, this loud voice screams in his head every single day that he needs to be more careful. 

_Call it intuition._ Jared sure as shit doesn’t know what to label it, or if he should even listen to it. What if it’s wrong, and he ends up doing something that he’ll regret later? He’s never gone over in his head what he might do if someone threatened to out him to the public, but there's a chance that he might go full murderer—no, he’s not even going to entertain that idea. He would never be able to end another person’s life. 

That’s not his choice to make, after all. 

Something like this has his heart pounding in his chest. He’s not sure that he can deal with this situation. No one ever prepared him for a moment like this. Not his parents, therapists, doctors—no one thought to tell him that a stranger might track him down someday. 

He had anticipated this scenario... In his dreams, when he had been panicking about what would happen if he ever were outed to the public, but he dismissed them as nightmares that could never  _ really  _ come true, for no one that knows of his condition would _dare_ tell someone outside of the loop for fear of the amount of shit they would come under from his parents’. 

_ Shit... Should I tell them?  _

Unfortunately, there isn’t a “ _ So You’ve Been Caught for Dummies,”  _ that could aide him in this situation. The one thing that he can think to do is ignore it, hoping that it will be a fluke that will drift further and further away like a slat of wood on the sea’s unforgiving current. 

Jared somehow doesn’t think that it’s going to be that easy for him. 

Nothing_ ever_ is. 

Whoever this person happens to be wants to meet with him. They have to be _crazy_ to think that this was the best way to go about making that happen. Jared’s not into anagrams or puzzles like these—the only reason he deciphered this one was because the variety of spelling mistakes began drawing a pattern before his eyes. 

The strange part about that that Jared can’t seem to wrap his head around for the life of him, is how they knew that_ that_ would be the way to put across that particular message to him without flat out saying it in person, or through text. The people around his friendship groups are aware that he has a certain disdain for poor spelling and grammar—who doesn’t these days? They can’t be pulling his leg... 

_ Is Chad fucking with me?  _

Jared rolls his eyes. If that does turn out to be true, that man is going to be in for a tongue-lashing he’s never experienced before. On the one hand, it does seem to be something that Chad would both think of and execute. Aside from his usual antics and tomfoolery, he’s a pretty smart guy, so Jared wouldn’t put it past him at this point. 

On the other hand, however, Chad has never taken the cryptic approach when pranking him. They’re normally in his face, inescapable things that he often finds himself laughing his ass off at. Hidden messages might be in Chad’s ballpark, and there certainly could be an argument made for him coming up with the concept, but Jared can’t imagine in his heart of hearts Chad physically putting this one into motion. 

In fact, he would be willing to bet that Chad has _no_ hand in it. Without being able to confirm this, he’ll have to concede to his gut feeling that Chad is innocent _this time around._

Who does that leave, though? Most of Jared’s friends like to joke around, but he can’t envision a single one of them going to these kinds of lengths for a few laughs—_laughs_ that they would not be able to cash in on since they can’t see Jared’s  reac \--

Jared gives the kitchen a once over, checking to see if there happens to be anything out of place that is worth noting. His search leaves him with nothing to further pursue. If there are hidden cameras in his house, then his friends would have had to have hired a professional team to stop Jared from finding them. 

The piece of paper feels like a third-degree burn against the sole of his left foot and his stomach pulses with a need to empty its contents.

Jared runs to his nearest bathroom. 

=

Whether or not his plan works is _entirely_ up to Jared’s ability to decode his message to him. He has faith that the man will be able to do it, for he tailored the message _specifically_ with him in mind. He would be far more surprised if Jared doesn’t decipher it, truth be told. 

In time, he’ll reveal himself fully to Jared, when he deems it to be the perfect time for said encounter. As it stands, Jared now has a stronger inkling that there is someone working behind the scenes—he doesn’t, _however_, know how to contact him. That part was not included in the letter. 

On the off chance that Jared was to send it to the police and they were convinced that he may be on to something, leaving a way to locate him would have been idiotic. No, he will approach Jared soon now that the seed has been planted more firmly. 

Over the past few weeks, he’s settled on a plan of action. All of the details have yet to be ironed out, but he’s far closer to finalising it than he had been, which gives him a sense of comfort. He can’t be sure that it’s foolproof and that there_ won’t_ be mishaps that occur. Still, he’s confident that the majority of his plan will come to fruition without delay or need to make edits. 

If his analysis of Jared has been correct so far, the man will be far too anxious to tell anyone about what has happened. That he’s _more_ than sure of, through the research that he has done on Jared over the years. There could be a _slight_ chance that Jared will confide in someone he trusts deeply, and he has a contingency plan for that, as well—not that he thinks he’s going to need it. It’s always better to have something in the back pocket, though. 

A part of him quakes with anxiety about physically coming face to face with his obsession. He hopes that he doesn’t make _too much_ of a fool of himself. The last thing he wants to do is hurt Jared in any way. At most, he might have to manipulate Jared in some way to keep him quiet. He doesn’t want anything getting out before they get to the end of_ their journey_, after all. 

He thinks that Jared will play along with his idea and perhaps even _thank him_ in the end if it goes well. There isn’t a reason that he wouldn’t, considering how half of this whole ordeal is going to be to the benefit of him. 

_ I worked hard for this—put my life on hold to find the answers that I wanted, so there can’t be a scenario in which Jared isn’t at least grateful... Right?  _

Rubbing his hands over his face, the man shuts off his monitor for the night. He needs rest just like his machines if he’s going to be refreshed enough to make the leap tomorrow. 

Best case scenario, Jared_ listens_ intently to what he has to say and agrees to go along with him wholeheartedly. 

_Worst_ case scenario, Jared refuses to listen to anything that he has to say, and he has to resort to sneakier methods in order to get what he wants. 

In either case, they will find out tomorrow. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not so sure about this one, but I had to get something out because I have left you guys waiting long enough and it's just not fair. On the bright side, it has been 13 weeks today since I last had a cigarette. 
> 
> o/
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I will try to get the next one out soon, where I will expound upon a few things that have happened in this one.

_ Jared, it’s time we met.  _

The invisible weight of anticipation forces Jared’s shoulders into submission, sagging without his consent. He imagines that the many faces around him see defeat riddled throughout his frame, as he catches his dim, retreating reflection, making out the dark, prominent circles marring the skin around his eyes. 

He had zero illusions that sleep would be few and far between for him last night as he tossed and turned, crippled with the impending fateful encounter looming overhead, preventing his body from finding any amount of rest. Every option at his disposal that would have had him down for the count came with far too many cons for Jared to consider. 

After the first hour or so, he had every intention of enlisting the aid of a hammer but thought better of it. With each hour that followed, the temptation grew exponentially. He’s convinced that the reason he avoided putting himself in a coma last night had everything to do with how much he loves his job. He would not be able to justify hanging the team out to dry like that when bookings  _ continue  _ to be on the rise. 

Aside from that, it could come across as if he were trying to avoid a  _ certain _ someone. While it’s true that things have been going fine between them since their almost kiss, Jared’s not sure when the other shoe is going to drop. 

When he thinks about the moment that they were a hairsbreadth away from touching lips, he feels this overwhelming sense of disappointment that they hadn’t managed to seal the deal, as it were. Part of him wonders if that was their one and only chance to make something happen, and the very thought scares him. 

Why it scares him, he has no idea. That’s the part that doesn’t sit right with him. Jared can’t deny that an almost eerie attraction has developed where Jensen is concerned. The man has this  _ pull  _ that seems to have the power to move mountains, to maintain the everlasting flow of water along the stream, to clear the gloomy clouds from the sky so that people can see the breath-taking beauty of the stars beyond them... 

Regardless of that man’s unquestionable God-like aesthetics, there are so many more layers to him that encourage Jared to  _ want  _ to be around him. He would be hard-pressed at this point to come up with any reason not to crave Jensen’s company. 

Thinking about him also has the desired effect of clearing his mind of his worries for the time being. If only he had latched on to his fantasies last night, he may have managed to find some sleep away from the anxiety eating its way through him.

On the bright side, he has a day off today. Not having to go into work when he's feeling this way is a blessing, really. He would be able to keep up a straight face in front of his colleagues, though he's not sure that it would pass over Jensen, who continues to impress Jared with his intuition. 

Danneel had commented that Jensen's one vagina away from being a full-fledged woman, which had Jared almost choking on his sandwich upon hearing it. Chris had been there to give him the pat on the back that he needed at the time, while Danneel had pelted him with a spree of apologies as she raised a glass of water to his lips. 

Once he had gotten over his near-death experience, he told her that it would have been worth it. 

Although the joke had been packed with the right amount of humour, Jared hadn't been able to help questioning its validity. He certainly has never thought  _ woman  _ when he looks at Jensen. Even the man's lips, although pillow-y couldn't be considered feminine to him. Not that it matters. Jared's confident that he doesn't have to worry about coming face to face with a vagina if he ever found himself in that position with Jensen--not when he's already clocked a decent looking package hidden behind the confines of his trousers. 

Before he finds himself sporting an erection in public, Jared moves his mind away from thoughts of Jensen's genital region. He's not about to be that person on the news caught on camera by some amateur journalist. 

Jared unzips his jacket halfway, relishing the light breeze entering in through the gap. 

He notes to himself that he should probably pick up some things for the fridge while he's out. It hadn't been his plan when he left the house this morning, but he has a few things that he needs to top up and it will save him having to come back out later or stop at the shop after work tomorrow. 

With that in mind, he turns around to start the trek to the shop, half-paying attention to the unusual amount of people passing by before lunchtime. He can't say that he's used to seeing the throngs of men and women bumping elbows and shoulders as they fight their way past anyone in their  path . Perhaps there's some kind of event going on that he hasn't been made aware of? 

Jared shrugs, picking up his pace. 

Unfamiliar faces continue to linger momentarily in his peripheral, the old and the young blurring into one with each fleeting moment. More and more pass him by, leaving with them ethereal wisps of wind that ghost over Jared's nape, filling him with an uncomfortable sensation. His pace begins to falter and he finds himself ducking into an alleyway to sort through the abrupt nausea creeping along his spine.

To his right, he can just make out the unstoppable waves of people proceeding as if nothing were amiss, unaware that he stepped out of line, breaking the formation. On his left, a load of trash bags rest in a heap on top of each other, obstructing the walkway. 

Not having the freedom to choose either left or right drains the colour from Jared’s face, as if his own crossroads of destiny has been previously determined before he had any chance to react. 

If he were thinking rationally, he would know that his train of thought could not be more over dramatic, but he can’t find the strength within to prevent his spiral, clutching his throat as breathing morphs into an arduous task, 

His knees silently scream their disapproval as wayward stones press hard against the bone, triggering a defensive reflex that has him unceremoniously scooting back. In his frazzled state, Jared hears more than he feels the solid wall preventing his retreat, a timid voice from deep within encouraging him to check for any bleeding. 

The voice goes ignored, cuts and bruises firmly shoved to the back of the queue as Jared works his lungs to correct themselves so that he doesn’t meet his end in an alleyway,  _ alone.  _

Jared calls upon every coping mechanism he’s managed to accumulate over his lifetime, pleading to anyone that will listen that one of them helps him in his situation. He allows himself to think about the shirt that Jensen was wearing when he last saw him, focusing on the denim and how he had wanted to feel the material between his fingers. 

With the image of Jensen’s shirt in mind, Jared recalls the woodsy cologne adding a nice earthy touch that tickled his nose in a good way, drawing him in unwittingly. The more he conjures up the vision in blue in his mind, the calmer his breathing becomes, evening out as an imaginary Jensen wraps Jared up in his arms, telling him that  everything is going to be okay. 

Despite his reservations, he keeps the fantasy rolling as he gradually raises himself up off the ground, using the wall for support. It’s more than able to cope with his weight, and he understands that he’s not quite ready to leave its guardianship just yet. 

Jared finds himself torn between wishing that he had someone here with him and being relieved that no one had been around to see him fall so far. Truth be told, he hasn’t found himself in that state in public for a very long time, so he might have to thank his lucky stars that he did get out of dodge before making a public spectacle. 

He’s already had one too many of those over the past few weeks to last a life time, even if that one happens to be a separate issue that he still can’t make heads or tails of. 

A car horn beeping to his right brings Jared back to reality, hand flying up to press against the back of his head. He breathes a sigh of relief when the tips of his fingers don’t come back wet, sharing an exasperated laugh in the narrow space. 

Recalling that he planned to go to the shop, Jared brushes himself off and peels himself out of the alleyway, re-joining the bustling crowd as if he had never missed a beat, somewhat curious as to whether or not anyone walking by actually noticed him falling into step. 

Elbows and shoulders jostle Jared from side to side. Not standing out in a crowd isn’t something that he’s used to, when most of his life blending in never came easy to him. He wouldn’t say that he misses the attention, but it’s not helping his overall mental state. There’s a tension in the air that he breathes, growing thicker with each step that he takes towards his destination. The one thing that he can hope for is that he won’t find himself sinking away again so soon. 

Ahead of him, a car pulls to a stop. The screech of the tyres has Jared leaping backwards, a momentary pulse of fear tearing through him before he registers that no one was behind him. He begins to note the argument between two drivers going on at the crosswalk and he considers taking another route to avoid going through them. 

Who knows what they might do in their fits of rage? Jared would rather not find out. 

He rights himself and pulls his jacket tighter across his shoulders, turning left onto the next street. The sounds of the driver’s squabble die out halfway to the next crosswalk. It's not something that he hasn’t seen before, however, he can’t deal with that type of tension right now. Nevertheless, the distance isn’t enough to avoid the beeping of impatient horns triggered by the commotion. 

A bead of sweat stings the corner of his eye. He wipes it away with the tip of his thumb and uses the arm of his jacket to check the damage, perplexed by the amount of perspiration pouring out of him without encouragement from his  _ unique  _ condition. 

Anyone that knows his story knows that he’s more than used to an abnormal amount of sweat coating his skin. No one will deny that. A rare few are aware that the only other time that he can be a comparably sweaty mess is during an intense session in the bedroom. As it stands, neither of those things are currently happening to him, so he has to question the  _ why _ of all of this. 

_ What is wrong with me? Other than the goddamn obvious...  _

Again, that letter breaks through the wall built up around it. 

_ It’s time we met, Jared.  _

Five little words that may not even mean  _ anything  _ have him at the throat, pulling his strings from behind. He surrendered before he had a chance to fight back, coaxed into submission due to the shock factor alone. Jared prefers to love instead of hate and talk instead of fight, but he has this sinking suspicion that he might need to relinquish himself to his animal instincts and bring forth his will to survive. 

_ I’m getting way  _ _ too _ _ ahead of myself here.  _

The more he tries to reason with himself, the harder it is for him to keep his grip on reality. Something or  _ someone  _ is lurking in the shadows waiting for him to slip up. He doesn’t know when they’re going to jump out and make their move, or if the universe has chosen to make him its bitch out of boredom. 

Whatever the world has in store for him, Jared must be willing to face it head-on if he wishes to see the sunrise tomorrow. 

* * *

“For an abnormal man... Jared sure does live an  _ ordinary  _ existence.” 

He can’t be sure what he had been expecting before he lock-picked his way inside Jared’s apartment, but he envisioned something...  _ different.  _ As far as he can tell from his observations, Jared’s no more than a typical bachelor. His apartment isn’t anything to write home about—he would go as far as to say that it’s kind of boring. 

There are a couple of photos by the side of his bed. If his research isn’t  _ wrong,  _ then the older couple are Jared’s parents and the grinning blond dude is Chad. Knowing more about someone else’s life than his own has always been disturbing. He has tried on more than one occasion to stop himself from obsessing over a man that has nothing to do with him. He  _ has.  _ Nothing he ever does to rid himself of the desire to see his self-prophesized goal through to the end ever works.

Not even the love of his life walking away from him because he refused to put her needs first. 

Every day he tries to convince himself that none of this is worth losing the one person he ever felt that he could give his life for. He must scream that to himself over and over again when he’s hacking into databases that he has no business having access to. If he had to guess  _ why  _ he does it, he would say that despite Jared’s lack of imagination when it comes to home-deco, there isn’t anyone on the planet that he finds  _ more _ interesting than the man. 

Almost erotically, if he were under the gun. 

Now, he hasn’t sat there with a bottle of lube to his left and a collage of photos spread out on the table in front of him, but each time he discovers something  _ new  _ or finds the answer to a question that he’d been mulling over for months on end, his dick more than stirs. 

As he’s  tsking at Jared’s creased bedspread, he notices one of the side drawers is slightly ajar. What kind of Jared expert would he be if he didn’t take a peek inside? He’s not sure that he wants to find out, so he brazenly yanks the drawer open and reaches for the first thing he can grab a hold of. 

The moment he feels the silicon in his grip, he retracts his hand as if he’d been burned, rubbing them on his jeans as if that might erase what’s already been done. He might get erections from time to time where Jared is concerned, but not in  _ this  _ way. 

He certainly did not want to  _ ever  _ touch one of Jared’s...  _ toys.  _

** _ Brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ _ ** ** _ brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ ...  _ ** ** _ Brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ _ ** ** _ brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ ...  _ ** ** _ Brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ _ ** ** _ brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ .. _ ** _ . _

Panic sets in as the sound cuts through the silence, reminding him that he has a job to do here. He can’t have someone interrupting his plan, so he’s going to have to disconnect Jared’s house phone once the call drops. 

** _ Brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ _ ** ** _ brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ ...  _ ** ** _ Brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ _ ** ** _ brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ ...  _ ** ** _ Brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ _ ** ** _ brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ ... _ **

Whoever’s calling isn’t the type to give up on the first few rings... He has no choice but to wait them out. If he cuts the call short, there’s a chance that the caller will make their way over to see what’s going on. 

Especially if it’s Chad. 

** _ Brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ _ ** ** _ brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ ...  _ ** ** _ Brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ _ ** ** _ brrrrrrring _ ** ** _ ...  _ ** ** _ Brr _ ** ** _ \-- _ **

** _ “You’ve reached Jared. Apparently, I’m not here right now, so please leave me a message and I’ll try and get back to you as soon as possible.”  _ **

** “Jared, hi... This is, uh, this is Jensen. I guess I’ve caught you at a bad time, uh... Look, I’ve been thinking about our talk. I’m sure you know the one. More than that, though, I’ve been, uh... What’s the worst that could happen... Jared, did you want me to kiss you that night? Or am I just imagining things?... You know what? Forget it. This is a face to face conversation—but if you do happen to get this and you don’t' say anything about it... That’ll be enough for me to know where I stand. See you soon.” **

When the line goes dead, a pit forms in his stomach. Interrupting a kiss is one thing, but can he really convince himself that deleting that message is the right thing to do here? He’s not so sure. He knows that he’s resigned himself to doing sneaky things in order to get what he wants in the end... 

_ What if I do this and when I’ve gotten what I want, it’s the one thing keeping them apart?  _

He shakes his head from side to side, encouraging a minor headache. Jared looks genuinely happy when he’s around Jensen... It would be  _ cruel  _ for him to close that door before it even has a chance to open. Still, he can’t help but think that Jensen will only get in the way of his plans, which isn’t something that he can allow to happen this close to getting his feet off the ground. 

From across the street, he hadn’t been able to hear what was said between Jared and Jensen  _ that _ night. His hearing isn’t that amazing. What he gathered is that it had been very personal for Jensen. Although it had been hard to make out, he could see that the older man’s shoulders were tense as he spoke to Jared and his eyes had no light. 

Whatever had been said, it brought them closer together. Close enough that they almost shared what was likely to have been a passionate kiss. With this in mind, he wonders just how close they might become if Jared hears that message. 

_ Would it be better if I gave Jared the choice? Or would that be even  _ _ crueller _ _ ? _

He eyes the delete button, ignoring the glow of the outstanding message, for fear that his courage might wane. His gut instinct tells him that he should go ahead and erase it from existence. The fewer distractions Jared has, the better for his end goal. On the other hand, the softer side of him that wishes he could have prevented the love of his life from walking away insists that he let Jared find happiness in a life filled with misfortune...

Time doesn’t stand still as he struggles to decide what his best move is, and he’s reminded of this fact when he hears a key being inserted into a lock, which he immediately deduces is Jared’s front door. He has a split second to figure out whether or not he wants to delete the message and hide or leave it as it is.

As the lock clicks, he takes in some much-needed air, mentally preparing himself for  their fated encounter. For a long time, he’s rehearsed in his head what he would say to Jared when he first comes face to face with him, but he’s not sure that he’ll be able to remember any of it the second the door opens. 

_ Here we go... Any second now... _

* * *

Jared eases the door open with his back, turning with shopping in hand once he’s crossed the threshold. He temporarily places his bags on the floor in order to shut and lock the door, still wondering what he should cook for dinner tonight once he’s attempted to relax with a warm bath. 

His plans are put on hold when a throat clearing behind him has him whipping his head around fast enough to cause a minor crick. The man stood in his kitchen isn’t quite what he had pictured when he read the note. In fact, he’s almost certain that he may have seen him before. 

Jared’s not sure why he’s surprised that the man is well put together. His hair seems well maintained, he smells  _ nice,  _ he’s also not bad to look at if this were a different situation. Jared stomps down that train of thought, reminding himself that this man wants something from him... For some reason, though, Jared doesn’t feel... uncomfortable. 

Or scared. 

“Hi, Jared... Um, my name is Buddy.” 

_ Buddy? Okay...  _

Jared clears his throat, “How did you get in here?” 

“I know you’re smart enough to figure that out for yourself.” 

“You know how to pick locks?” 

Buddy nods, holding his hands up, “You got me. I never thought I would use the set my uncle got me when I was just a kid, but here we are.” 

“You didn’t need to break into my house--”

“I  _ broke  _ nothing,” Buddy deflects, sniffing, “If we’re being technical, that is.” 

Jared huffs, “Whatever. What do you want?” he asks, confused by how calm he feels in this moment. 

“To talk... You did decipher my letter, right?” 

“Yes, I did.  So talk,” Jared answers, taking a few steps forward, bags abandoned. 

Buddy doesn’t react to his approach, “Earlier, you looked like you were having a panic attack, but you’re taking this rather well,” he observes, stowing his hands in the pockets of his pale blue jeans.

“You’ve been following me.” 

It wasn’t a question.

“I have for quite some time now. Don’t worry, I haven’t been camping out in a tree outside your bedroom window. My interest in you isn’t sexual.”

Jared stops at that, “I know. You know who I am, right? You’re here to threaten me, shake me down for money so that you’ll stay silent and keep my name out of the papers--”

“Woah, woah. Jared, I don’t  wanna out you to anyone,” Buddy admits, “The truth is that I don’t want to have to resort to other means here. My hope is that you’ll hear what I have to say and want to be a part of it.”

“ _ Other means? _ What’s your plan if I  _ don’t  _ cooperate then?” 

Buddy closes his eyes and takes a breath in, “I know a thing or two about  _ Chad’s  _ past that could get him in a lot of trouble if word got--”

“You leave him  _ out  _ of this,” Jared snaps, grabbing the top of Buddy’s shirt collar, “What else do you know?” 

To his credit, Buddy seems completely unphased by someone who has a few pounds on him getting into his personal space. Jared might be allowing his height advantage to get the better of him here. 

“I told you, Jared... I don’t  _ want  _ to do any of  that. If you go along with my plan, I promise you that nothing will happen to Chad. You don’t know this about me, but I damn sure keep my promises.”

Jared searches for the deceit in Buddy’s eyes but comes up short. His instincts implore him to believe what the man is saying. Jared had been expecting to be plucked from the streets at some point and wake up in a dilapidated building. Instead, he’s in his own home standing face to face with Buddy, who isn’t your typical  _ bad guy.  _ While he would rather the man not threaten Chad, there doesn’t seem to be any cruel intentions hidden within. 

He releases the man’s collar and takes a step back. 

“ So, what do you want from me?” 

Buddy smiles, “I want to know what makes you what you are. And I think I’m close to figuring out what it is. Now, I know that you gave up a long time ago on finding out why you’ve been saddled with this bizarre condition, but I’ve been studying you indirectly for years and years, so I think I have a right to say that I have some authority when it comes to your condition. For starters, Jared, I think the Doctors have been looking in the wrong place.” 

Jared stops himself from rolling his eyes, “Many have tried to figure out just what is wrong with me. What makes you think that  _ you  _ have a better chance?” 

The man isn’t deterred, “I’ve given up everything for this.  _ For you,  _ kind of. I’ll admit that it’s more for my own peace of mind, like I just have to  _ know  _ in order to move on. Still, I could have been a Doctor. An actual Doctor... It was what I was studying for before I came across one of the research papers about you... Once I read one, I read all of them. It all went downhill from there,” Buddy lowers his head then and Jared wonders if he’s reflecting on something. 

“I had someone in my life once... Not even she was enough to keep me from pursuing you... Enough about all that, though. If you join me, you’ll finally know the truth about yourself. You can’t tell me that you’re not curious, right?” 

There’s something oddly endearing about the way Buddy’s eyes light up as if to accentuate his question. Jared isn’t looking at him like he’s an enemy. He’s not sure if that’s a mistake at this point, for the other shoe could drop at any moment. Nevertheless, Jared truly believes that this man won’t do anything to hurt him or anyone else if he just agrees to go along with his plan. 

What could be the harm in it? At one point in his life, he had been willing to do almost anything in order to get to the bottom of his condition. It’s just that after years of disappointment, he lost faith that he would ever discover the truth about himself. 

Maybe Buddy has a part to play in his discovery? Jared has no idea. He has his reservations about taking that leap. Never before has he taken into consideration what might become of him learning the whole truth. Things might change in ways that he’s not prepared for... Will it be worth it? Jared can’t answer that for himself. 

No one can. 


	15. Chapter 15

“I’ll be in touch.” 

Jared’s legs give out on him the moment his door clicks into place. He’s not sure where all that bravery he displayed came from. For his own sake, he’s glad that he had it on tap during that negotiation or he can’t be sure what state he would have been in by the end of it. Jared’s confused by the whole event, really.  _ Buddy  _ didn’t turn out to be some criminal mastermind with the big plan to shake him down for all he’s worth in order to maintain his anonymity where the public is concerned. Instead, he’s just a man with a goal to figure out what  _ he is  _ exactly. If only Jared could give him the answer, they wouldn’t have to go through all of this to reach it. 

During their talk, Jared felt empathy for the man. In one way or another, he’s the causal effect of Buddy’s path to a normal, happy existence being tarnished. If it weren’t for his condition fuelling the man’s obsession, he would be married with a couple of kids, perhaps—not spending his life searching for the truth about a mystery that Jared gave up on a long time ago. 

They talked about that, too. Buddy couldn’t understand  _ why  _ Jared ever tapped out. To be fair to him,  _ he’s  _ not the one living with the condition.  _ He’s  _ not the one that went to all the appointments, being poked and prodded by all kinds of  _ experts,  _ male and female alike examining him again and again pointlessly. It didn’t matter how long they spent on him,  _ every time _ they came up empty, and Jared had to wonder why he ever went under the knife in the first place. 

Jared still has scars from the  _ surgeries.  _ Scars that he would rather no one ever see... Unfortunately, they’re not something that he can hide forever. On the bright side of things, although they can be made out if someone knows what to look for, they’re not so prominent that they would be seen from a long distance. Somewhere, he wonders if  _ Jensen  _ saw them  _ that  _ time. He never mentioned anything or  _ looked  _ at him in a suspect way, so there’s a good chance that he just didn’t notice. 

If he’s being honest with himself, he wouldn't have minded if Jensen had seen them. The man could very well be a Saint in a Chef’s hat. 

Back to the matter at hand, Jared’s gut instinct tells him that he should tag along for Buddy’s wild ride. While he may have had questionable methods of kicking off this expedition, Jared can see that Buddy’s heart is in the right place. He wants the truth, and that’s the meat of it. Finding out what’s  _ wrong  _ with him just happens to be the bonus, for Jared, if that’s possible. Part of him wants to believe that Buddy was meant to be the one to discover him fully, but he’s going to reserve judgement until he actually sees some results. 

Buddy offered to give him eight hours before making his decision as to whether or not he wants to follow him down the Rabbit hole. Jared’s sure that he’s going to say yes, so it won’t hurt to wait a while. He still has dinner to make and he could really use a shower. 

As he’s turning to reclaim his shopping bags, a blinking red light draws his attention, and he’s reminded of one of the things that Buddy told him during their encounter. 

_ “Your boss left you a message earlier. It seemed important. Keep this in mind before you listen to it, though... I don’t want  _ _ anyone  _ _ getting in the way of this, understand? If you can guarantee that they won’t, then by all means do whatever or whoever you want.”  _

Jared struggles to comprehend why he hasn’t played the message yet. The only logical reason he can conjure up in his head is that once he listens to it, he can’t unhear the words if there are any. There must be something that  _ could  _ throw a spanner in the works, for Buddy to have even mentioned it. Otherwise, why on Earth would he care? Jared’s torn between deleting it so that he doesn’t have to deal with the repercussions, or asking someone else to listen to it for him. 

From what Buddy said, Jared has this  _ feeling  _ that it’s about the  _ near kiss  _ from that night at the bar where they opened up to each other. If it is, it will be nice to know that he hasn’t been the only one thinking about  it lately. 

Thinking about it a lot, really. 

Now, say the message does have some form of relation to that moment... Would it be right for Jared to start something when his priorities will be ensuring that Buddy doesn’t go  _ Split  _ before this is all over? He can’t see that being  _ fair  _ to Jensen, especially if he finds himself putting in more effort than Jared. No, he couldn’t possibly allow himself to leave Jensen to do more than half of the work for the hypothetical relationship between them. 

Jared has fantasized about it quite a bit. Here and there... At least once an hour... Maybe more--he's lost count at this point. Jared’s just proud of himself that he doesn’t have a leather-bound book somewhere with  _ Jared Ackles  _ written all over it. 

Maybe he should just wait until this  _ quest  _ is through with...

Jared sighs and runs a hand through his hair. The message isn’t going to play itself, so he has no choice but to press play and let the dominos fall. 

** “Jared, hi... This is, uh, this is Jensen. I guess I’ve caught you at a bad time, uh... Look, I’ve been thinking about our talk. I’m sure you know the one. More than that, though, I’ve been, uh... What’s the worst that could happen... Jared, did you want me to kiss you that night? Or am I just imagining things?... You know what? Forget it. This is a face to face conversation—but if you do happen to get this and you don’t' say anything about it... That’ll be enough for me to know where I stand. See you soon.”  **

When the message ends, Jared plays it once more. And then again. _ And again _ . And again. By the fourth time, he realises that he’s crying. Why he’s crying escapes him. It could be the pain that he hears in Jensen’s voice when he says he’ll know where he stands, or the hope in the see you soon... It’s hard to tell. All he knows is that now there is no way he can postpone this. 

Jared’s stomach churns at the thought of Jensen sitting alone in his office, hurting, isolated. How hard it must have been for him to pick up the phone in the first place and call. What he did took a lot of bravery for someone in Jensen’s position. Had  _ he _ been in his shoes, he’s not sure that he would have been able to go through with it, so once again the man has smashed his expectations of him. 

The question now, is what he’s going to say to Jensen when he sees him tomorrow at work. He can’t be sure that he’ll even have the strength to speak when the moment comes—a recurring problem for Jared when it concerns matters of the heart. 

Rejection has followed him his whole life. Be it a Doctor, a once good friend, a partner... The details of his life normally send people running for the door. It’s only recently that new friends have started sticking by his side through it all. Chris, for example. If things go south with Jensen, there’s a more than likely chance that he won’t be maintaining his relationship with Chris by the end of it, since that man is as loyal as they come. 

The problem is, Jared’s scared of what a rejection from  _ Jensen  _ will do to him. An empty void manifests in his internal vision at the very idea of losing him... The depth of that void is absurd beyond all measure and he would like nothing more than to know it's so deep. 

Nothing will get done the longer he stands around taking up all the air in the room. Right now, he should focus on preparing himself for the events of tomorrow and try to get a good  night's rest, if he can.  _ _

* * *

Tomorrow came far sooner than Jared would have liked it to, even with his consistent, broken sleep. There’s no telling how much he tossed and turned in his bed last night. No one ever said that sleep wasn’t for the weak, though, so there’s nothing he can do other than screw his head on straight, get through the day and make sure he reserves some energy for his talk with Jensen. 

Before he went to attempt to sleep, Jared messaged Buddy with his response. The reply had been immediate, just letting him know that he would be contacting him soon when he has something that he needs Jared for, which he didn’t have the headspace to question him on. He left out his plan to talk to Jensen, thinking that Buddy purposefully fed him the choices that he had to make. 

Fortunately, Jared had been able to mask his tired state with a little help from a concealer one of his friends accidentally left behind at his place. It’s not something he would normally bother wearing, but he would rather people not ask him questions or assume that he can’t do his job. 

He enters the kitchen after saying hello to his floor colleagues, greeting Genevieve as he walks in, who gives him a warm welcome back and then drops a bombshell on him that he didn’t see coming from a mile away. 

“I’m running Matt’s station? Why? Is he okay?” 

Genevieve rolls her eyes, “Calm down. He’s fine, just under the weather. Jensen won’t let anyone come to work even if they start coughing in his general direction—so to keep a long story short, Matt will be right as rain tomorrow, but he sneezed at the wrong time, so here we are,” she finishes with another eye roll, except this one looks a tad  _ gotta _ _ love ‘ _ _ em _ _ , right?.  _

“Oh, uh... okay, then,” Jared says, nodding as if he’s not sure what else to do in this situation. 

“Yes, okay, now get your butt over there and start prepping,” Genevieve orders with a coy smile as she slices vegetables. 

Jared avoids the salute he had been about to give and turns on his heel, making his way over to the prep table. He’s watched Matt do his part of the job a few times, so he’s sure that he can manage it—it just would have been nice to have had a little bit of time to prepare himself for  _ this,  _ too. 

For now, however, he’ll have to put everything else to the back of his mind and focus on the job that he has in front of him. It won’t do good for him to mess up here, when this is his opportunity to actually prove to Jensen that he hadn’t made a mistake when he decided to hire him. 

Shrugging off his insecurities, Jared rolls his sleeves up and gets to work, recalling that the first thing that Matt usually does at the start of the day is check all of the meats in the chillers. 

He braces for the face full of cold mist as he opens the door and starts with the chicken on the left. 

By the time he finishes checking everything, Chris and company are much further along than he is. Jared wishes that he had their experience at this moment in time. He’s watched them seamlessly work from the sideline on more than one occasion, but now he needs to be inside the circle with them. 

Swallowing down his self-doubt, Jared moves on to his next task, which is preparing breakfast inserts for the morning rush that will be happening in less than an hour. It’s at this point that Jared has to wonder how they ever get all of this work done with time to spare on a regular day. 

“Jaybe, I can hear you thinking from here. Slow your roll and just do what you know how to do, okay?” Chris advises as he chops up additives for the breakfast buffet. Jared admires how he makes it all seem so  _ easy.  _

“Sorry, man. First time shakes and all,” Jared replies truthfully as he cuts into the ham. 

Chris kisses the air in his direction, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be gentle.”

Jared laughs without thinking, relaxing into the job, “Thanks, Chris.”

“Don’t mention it, gorgeous. Screw up that ham and it’s your ass, though.” 

“Would you two either fuck or shut up?” Katie adds half-jokingly. Jared can see that she’s tense from the workload. 

They’re all tense, really. 

The cold, refreshing sting of the water as it hits his cheeks could not be more welcome after the day that Jared has had. Today may have been the busiest day he’s ever experienced in his time here, and he’s amazed that his colleagues haven’t dropped dead from the overwhelming  amount of customers coming through the door. 

Jared could not be more grateful that the place has emptied out, ready to close down for the night. He’s not sure if he would be able to handle even another hour of what he just went through. 

The orders flooding into the kitchen had been nonstop since ten o clock this morning. He knew this place was popular before he even applied for the position, but all of the times that he came by, he never once witnessed it in the state it had been earlier. 

Now, the business side of it is great. There’s no question of that. He has to wonder about the costs of labour, though, when the staff are being put through  _ that  _ on a regular basis. 

Still, Jared won’t complain. He likes that his job isn’t easy. He loves that his job isn’t predictable. He wants to feel like he’s worked when he gets home at the end of the night. There’s nothing more satisfying than actually  _ knowing  _ he’s accomplished something when his head hits the pillow.

Jared catches his reflection in the mirror and stares deeply into his own eyes, for it’s time for him to rise up and face the elephant in the room. 

Throughout the day, Jensen had only entered the kitchen to feedback and advise the team. He hadn’t said anything to Jared. Not one thing. What he had done was focus his attention on him more than once, and each time Jared felt himself sinking further into the ground. 

The look held a lot of weight to it, as if the heaviness Jensen felt could only be alleviated once the unfinished business between them reached its inevitable climax. 

To Jared, they had looked haunted. If they hadn’t been rushed off their feet, he would have chosen that moment to silence Jensen’s queries. 

Hindsight can only do so much for him now, though. It certainly won’t stop nausea rising up his throat as he sorts through the plan of action, thinking that it would be best for them to have  _ this  _ type of conversation in private, so as to not draw attention from whoever happens to be around. The idea of being in a room alone with the man has a  _ different  _ effect on him, as it stands. 

Jared smacks his hand against the wall and backs away from the sink, twisting the nozzle as he goes. Postponing their fated encounter will only give his nerves greater control over his actions. He needs to get this done,  _ now.  _

With all the speed that he can muster, Jared rushes to find Jensen. He makes a beeline for the man’s office, thinking that that will be the  _ best place _ to start looking for him, considering most of Jensen’s time spent at work, is in his office. Jared may have also had a couple of fantasies regarding said office, tucked away beneath his sheets, allowing his mind to play out his downstairs brain’s desires. 

As he’s rounding the corner, a hand gripping his shoulders stops his actions, along with temporarily stripping him of the ability to breathe. He inclines his head to examine the hand, not quite registering what the owner is saying to him. 

“Hey, Jared?... You okay, man?” 

Jared snaps himself out of his daze and zeroes in on the voice behind him. Once he matches the voice to the hand, a wave of adrenaline courses through him, bringing with it a spine-tingling shiver, followed by a low heat pumping throughout him. 

“Jensen, hi. Um, yeah. I’m good. You?” 

Without letting go of him, Jensen moves around to Jared’s front, eyes lit with determination. Jared can feel the impact of it turning up the heat. All he wants it to  _ not have  _ an episode—anything else but that. 

“Why are you still here?” Jensen asks. His tone isn’t accusatory, merely curious. 

“Um... Well, I--”

“Is this about my message?”

Jared’s shoulders tighten, “Yes.”

“Good. Come with me.” 

The walk to Jensen’s office can’t be more than five to ten seconds, but it feels like minutes. Jared could hear the ticks on his watch piercing through the veil drawn over his eyes with each step that he took with the man beside him. He’s not sure if that’s a sign that he should turn back and run, or if he’s due a heart  attack the second the door closes behind him. 

He doesn’t have long to figure out which one of those options is the correct one, as Jensen isn’t aware of his current mental showdown and makes the decision for him, closing the door with an audible click. 

Jared _ waits _ for Jensen to move towards his own desk to take a seat before realising that he’s not going anywhere. In fact, Jared’s positive Jensen hadn’t been  _ this  _ close in the hallway a few minutes ago. 

“So, um...”

“ Yes,… _ Jay?”  _ Jensen replies with a prominent inflection, stepping in close enough that Jared feels compelled to take a step back. 

With Jensen invading his space like he is, Jared can smell that unique scent of his that draws him in like a cartoon fat man, floating aimlessly towards the pie outside the window. A mixture of Old Spice, Purell, and peppermint. The same concoction might not affect everyone, but Jared’s been a slave to that aroma since day one. 

If he wanted to be poetic about the combination, he would say something along the lines of... the Old Spice being the cover that Jensen uses in day to day life. With it being a popular choice amongst men his age, no one would be the wiser. He would wax about the Purell representing Jensen’s obsession with cleanliness, his compulsion to keep himself pure at all times, maintaining his vitality, while washing away his past. As for the peppermint, well, if he had to push a guess, Jared would say the man likes to have good breath. 

Bring them all together and the world is gifted with a second to none, genuine soul that Jared can truly say makes  _ his life  _ more bearable. 

Jared knows that he can’t afford to push this back any longer. He has to give his answer before the moment is over.  _ This  _ is the time for  _ him  _ to be brave. 

_ Come on. I can do this.  _

_“_You’re right... I heard your message, and I’m sorry that I didn’t call you back right away. I didn’t know what to do...” 

Jensen appears as though he’s listening intently to what Jared has to say, never once wavering. 

“Do you know what to do... _now?_” Jensen asks, stepping in further once again. Jared can almost feel the man’s body heat trying to fuse with his own. 

He clears his throat, swallowing the saliva build-up. If he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed he had taken a large pull from a glass of water. To think, last night his mouth had been as dry as he would imagine a desert is, and now... Now every which way his tongue moves around, it’s coated in another layer of saliva. 

The question repeats itself in his mind, playing on a loop. Off the top of his head, he wants to say yes. His entire being wants him to say yes. What’s stopping him, is the thought that if Buddy does happen to pull a _Misery_ situation out of his ass, Jared would feel ten times worse if Jensen became involved in that. 

_Selfishly_, he thinks that the positives outweigh the negatives. By letting himself have this, he could be complete for the rest of his existence... If he says no now, _what if_ there’s _never_ a chance for this to happen for them again? What if Jensen takes the rejection for what it is, and moves on to someone probably more deserving of his affections... 

Jared doesn’t want to let that happen. Seeing Jensen with anyone else in his mind’s eye brings on a feeling he’s not accustomed to. A scary feeling. Wouldn’t it be wrong for him to go down this road, when he doesn’t know if he’ll be getting off at some point down the line? Say things go belly up with Buddy and his whole plan, and Jared finds himself having to change his name and move to a new city—that wouldn't be fair to Jensen... What’s he going to do, leave his restaurant behind for him? 

No, Jared couldn’t let that happen. He would never be able to forgive himself for something like that. 

_What am I supposed to do here? _

Jared’s throat hitches at the touch of Jensen’s thumb caressing his cheek as nimble fingers curl around his neck, holding him there. 

“Look, Jared... I’ll be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing here. Really... I don’t. The truth is, I can’t stop thinking about you-and I know, I know that sounds cheesy and a part of me hates myself for saying it, but I_ just can’t_... I’ve _tried_, more than once. Tell myself to focus on work, do your job, run your ship, all that good stuff... The moment I’ve got a second, though, all I see is you... I get it, right? I’m your boss, and that’s taboo, and normally I’d be right along with you in that kind of thinking, but it’s like I don’t even  _ care.  _ If it means,” Jensen licks his lips, “If it means that I can kiss you, right now. Here... Then I can’t find a reason to care about what’s right, you know?  So here’s what I’m  gonna do, 'kay? I’m going to kiss you... And, if you move away, then okay. That's an answer—_that_ I can deal with. If you don’t, well... Then I’ll be happy.” 

After Jensen’s confession, Jared has to wonder if he can feel how fast his heart is beating through the pulse point on his neck. Jared’s having zero issues hearing it through his chest right now. The things that Jensen said to him resemble everything he’s been feeling when he has the headspace to let go for a few minutes. Each time he finds himself with time on his hands, he’s bombarded with a litany of Jensen-centric thoughts rolling through his head without preamble. 

There’s something about knowing he’s not the only one that’s rather vindicating.

Realising that Jensen has been waiting for some form of response, Jared does the one thing that he’s confident that he  _ can  _ do in this moment. He nods his head, ready to accept whatever comes next. 

Jensen takes the last step into Jared’s space, bringing them nose to nose. There’s a fire in his eyes that Jared’s never seen in anyone before. It looks almost predatory, and he...  _ he _ _ likes it.  _

The hand that rested on his neck moments before slides down his back, stopping just above his bum. Jensen pulls him in until no space exists down south, and Jared keens at the pressure nudging against his own. Jensen’s other hand climbs up his front, sending jolts of anticipation through his nerves with each inch it climbs, eventually stopping to support his head as Jensen leans in to kiss him, lips slightly parted. 

Jared follows suit, his eyes closing without his own consent. Instinct takes over as Jensen’s pillow-soft lips move against his own, gently connecting them again and again. Jared could swear he can hear their lips detaching before reattaching a tenth of a second later, mimicked by the sinful rotations of Jensen’s hips, stirring a need in Jared that he hasn’t felt this strongly in his entire life. 

He gasps between kisses, waiting for Jensen to take it that one step further with his tongue, but right now he seems more interested in keeping their lips bound for as long as he can, using the elapsed time to grind against him sensually, provoking a stream of internal pleas to any deity that will listen to magically remove both their clothing. 

Jensen’s lips burn his own in the best way. He wants to touch them when this is over and smile knowing that Jensen was there with him. The man’s hands on his flesh feel like that first toe dipping into the perfect bathwater over and over again, each time better than the one before it. Jared could really get used to this. 

A short_ bang _resonates around him as he knocks against the door from the force of Jensen leaning into their kiss, finally parting his lips wide enough to let his tongue join in the mix. 

The first touch of it to his own figuratively melts Jared’s insides. There’s a pleasant heat thrumming through him that doesn’t have the same voracity as the one he’s accustomed to. It’s light but hot. It’s rapid but manageable. While the norm would have him feel as though he just ran a  marathon; this one feels more like a steady jog that he could keep up all day long if he wanted to. 

Tasting Jensen for the first time has his legs wanting to give out on him. He doesn’t let them. A lightning bolt could blast through the ceiling and Jared’s not sure he would even have the will to react to it at this moment. Jensen pulls him tighter to his body, syncing them up from toes to foreheads as he snakes his hand down the back of Jared’s trousers, breathing in deeply through his nose and squeezing a large chunk. 

As quickly as Jensen’s hand wandered, it left, curling around his back instead as he catches Jared’s bottom lip between his teeth and suckles on the end before letting it go with a resounding pop. 

When Jared peels his eyes open for the first time in what feels like years, Jensen’s stood in front of him with a smile so wide and pure it could quite easily brighten anyone’s mood. He watches as he runs his tongue over his lips, convinced that Jensen’s dragging the motion out on purpose. 

“Yeah... Better than I imagined,” Jensen says after a few beats, eyeing the lack of space between their crotches. 

Jared prepares to give a response to  that, however, it dies in his throat when there’s a knock on the door. His first thought is to look to see Jensen’s response, who’s entirely unaffected by the interruption, seeming almost apologetic as he detaches himself and gently guides Jared out of the way of the door. 

Jensen answers the door with an air of frustration, keeping his hips arched to the side to avoid showcasing his  _ excitement,  _ and Jared uses the barricade to quickly situate his own  _ excitement  _ in between his waistband and naval. 

“Why haven’t you gone home yet? You haven’t forgotten that you have an important meeting tomorrow, have you?” 

As soon as the person speaks, Jared knows it’s Danneel. Without thinking, he steps to the side and reveals himself to her, appearing rather sheepish as he runs a hand needlessly through his hair. 

“Sorry, Danny... He didn’t say he had somewhere to be tomorrow, but I should probably take this as my cue to leave, right?” 

He goes to pivot around Jensen and leave them to it, when the man pulls him in for an unexpected goodbye kiss that has Jared wanting to continue what they had been doing before  Danneel showed up. Jensen closes his arms around him then, leaving his head against Jared’s own as he whispers words of safe wishes. 

Jared doesn’t see  Danneel’s reaction. He doesn’t catch the look of jealousy in her eyes as he walks by her to leave Jensen’s office, and he can’t hear anything she says over the beating of his own heart. 

_ I am so fucking screwed. Holy shit.  _


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three in a week... Don't I just spoil you all? XD

Now that they’ve shared a kiss, watching Jared walk away chills the blood in his veins. His feet ache to launch into a sprint after the man, but he keeps them locked in place. There will be time for them to get to know each other better, later. Right now, he should focus on finishing the rest of his paperwork for the night. 

“So, what was  _ that  _ about, Jen?”  Danneel asks coolly, flicking a strand of hair away from her face.

Jensen has known  Danneel for quite a while now. He’s learnt to detect her fluctuating moods and idiosyncrasies in order to stay ahead of the loop. A quick check on her stiff posture and set jaw indicate that she’s not doing so hot. What he can't put his finger on, is why that is. As far as he’s aware, nothing happened today that she couldn’t handle with ease, not by a longshot. 

“Are you okay, Danny?” 

Danneel avoids looking into his eyes. It’s clear to him that she’s hiding something, “I’m fine. I was just asking--”

“Are you _sure_? Because I know you, and that’s not your  _ fine  _ voice,” Jensen claims as he starts towards his desk, “That’s your  _ why didn’t you pick me to see the movie with  _ voice, and we _both_ know it.” 

She opens her mouth to speak before rethinking, “Forget I said anything. I don’t want to upset you.” 

Jensen pauses then, half-lowered into his seat. He falls the rest of the way as he replies, “What do you think is going to upset me?” 

“Well, I... It looked like you and Jared were  _ in the middle  _ of something,”  Danneel presumes, crossing her arms over her chest, posture somewhat deflated. 

“And what if we were?” 

From his chair, Jensen can see that  Danneel would rather not continue speaking, but she’s all too aware that by not saying what’s on her mind, she’ll only make it worse for the both of them. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Jen. I’m just being honest with you, here.” 

A moment passes where no words are said, and then. 

“Why?” Jensen asks, giving her the benefit of the doubt. He owes her that much considering what they’ve been through together. 

She takes a deep breath in through her nose and then out through her mouth, preparing herself for whatever follows. Jensen feels for her... It’s never easy being the bearer of bad news. He knows that all too well. 

“I think it would be different if you weren’t  _ the Boss,  _ you know? I mean, say it goes sideways between you two, and he tries to take your restaurant away from you out of spite. Or maybe this was his plan from the beginning—wait, maybe not that... Um,” she revaluates her line of reasoning, prompted by the increasingly irked expression on Jensen’s face. Not cutting in is unbelievably hard for him in this moment, “You don’t  _ know him  _ like you know, um,  _ me _ , for example. You just  _ met  _ the guy and you want to ride off into the sunset?” 

“Danny... We’ve been over this more than once... I’m gay, okay? I love you like my sister, but I’m  _ not _ into _ you _ ,” Jensen repeats, and the rejection in her eyes stings, “I gave you the choice to walk away when I turned you down the last time, remember? I said if you can’t handle being around me and someone else in the future, I wouldn’t blame you if you walked away.  _ You  _ chose to stay that day, and I’m happy that you did—but, Danny, I don’t want you to be miserable here.” 

“I’m not miserable,” she denies, rubbing the top of her arm, head cast to the side, “And I  _ know  _ that you’re gay—I just, I don’t know... I’m sorry.” 

Two options present themselves to Jensen. He could choose to be angry with  Danneel for suggesting that Jared has been disingenuous with him, or he could understand her position, forgive her and let bygones be bygones. In the interest of maintaining their friendship, Jensen will give her a pass, for now. He doesn’t see the point in making a big deal out of something he could have possibly seen coming, what with her past confession looming over his head. 

It’s best just to let it go. 

“ C’mere ,” Jensen beckons, and  Danneel wastes no time closing the distance between them. He stands to embrace her, saying without words that he’s not going to hold what she said against her, “In another life, where I’m  _ straight,  _ I’m positive we’re more than likely married. So just be happy for_ that _ Danneel , yeah?” 

She sniffs and nods her head against his shoulder, pushing out a held-in breath. There’s an air of degradation tacked on to it, accompanied by resignation. Jensen doesn’t know if this will be the last of this issue that they have with each other, but he hopes for their sake, it is. To have to lose her as a friend would be a tough pill to swallow—hopefully, it never comes to that. 

When he determines that she has settled down, Jensen pulls back from their embrace, a meaningful look in his eye that says everything that she needs to know, moving forward. It would be pointless discussing things further. 

Danneel takes the look for what it is and bids him goodnight, turning on her heel to exit his office. She _does_ aim one more look over her shoulder before closing the door behind her. 

Jensen relaxes for the first time since she mentioned Jared by name. To think that even a pseudo sibling speaking poorly of him is enough to have Jensen on the defensive. He would have thought that he would conduct himself with greater calmness, not impatience and ignorance. What _might_ he have done had the person bad mouthing Jared been a Tom, Dick or Harry? Jensen’s not sure that he wants to know the answer to that. 

For the next ten minutes, he gets through the rest of his workload, keeping his thoughts on the task at hand with zero outside interference. Really, he’d like to entertain the continuance of his and Jared’s heated make-out session. He’s never had sex in his office, but he wouldn’t be against the idea--

“It took you long enough to get rid of your last boner, Ackles. Get it together, man,” Jensen scolds himself, neatening up his desk before grabbing his jacket on the way out, locking the door behind him. 

The air is warm for close to midnight, and he regrets bringing his jacket with him in the first place. Fortunately, however, his car isn’t parked too far away, so he won’t be suffering for very long. 

He reaches his car then, thumbing the unlock button from inside his pocket. His car clicks its ascent, the driver side door lifting automatically. Jensen loads himself in and checks the essentials, powering him up with a flick of his wrist, the engine purring as the door slides back into place. 

Now ready to go, Jensen puts it in drive and sets off for his house. No one would believe it now, but Jensen failed his driving test three times. He couldn't put his finger on what it was... Something tripped him up every time he had been behind the wheel, ready to prove to his instructor that he had been ready to join everyone else on the road. 

Failing more than once is actually one of his greatest embarrassments, to this day. 

Jensen laughs to himself, remembering that time he ran a red light without realising it. He freaked out on the spot, and his instructor had to take control of the wheel. The number of times he apologised at the end of that session would have driven the toughest of adults insane. At the time, he had been under an extreme amount of stress, so that may have attributed to some of his mistakes, and his reactions to them. 

…He kept his cool in front of  Danneel , for her benefit. Jensen can’t stop the muscles in his face from ticking where she’s concerned, though. None of what she said had any real bearing—she just didn’t want him starting something with anyone other than her. 

His eyes almost roll. Truthfully, he does love her like a sister, and he would probably kill for her. That much he will agree to. It doesn’t give her the right to meddle in his affairs... Especially when it’s _not_ constructive. 

The last time Jensen had  _ anything  _ was... He’s not even sure. Maybe he’s never had what could be considered a long-term relationship. That might make him come across as some kind of playboy, but he’s not. It’s one of those situations where he either hadn’t met the right people, or he didn’t have time to devote enough of himself to something worthwhile. 

As it stands, he has people that he can trust to take care of his business while he does go on a...  _ date  _ with  _ Jared.  _ Jensen’s heart flutters in his chest and he feels himself going all giddy. It’s an odd feeling to be so affected by just one, single person. Anyone passing him on the road might assume that someone’s making him happy with their mouth from the way he’s grinning like a fool. He would struggle to find a moment in his life where he felt content like this. 

Even on the day of Jared’s interview, Jensen sensed a spark between them that he couldn’t put his finger on. It may have been the way that Jared blended with himself and his team with ease... Or perhaps his dimples did the trick. Either way, he had made a good impression on him. Enough for Jensen to still be thinking about him hours after he left. 

Jensen slows down as he’s reaching the turn off into his road, easing along after nudging his left indicator. He switches it back off once he’s made the turn, cruising the rest of the way to his house. He pulls up onto his driveway and taps the button for his  garage , waiting patiently for the door to rise. 

** _ “ _ ** ** _ Welcome home, Mr. Ackles. Would you like me to start your workout mix?” _ **

“No. Skip it for today,” Jensen replies, accelerating into his garage before shutting off the power. He had  _ Alexa _ set up a workout mix for every other day that he got home from work, but he would be lying if he said that he could be asked to go through with it tonight. Tomorrow, he’ll force himself to do an extra fifteen minutes to make up for it. For now, he could really do with a shower and then climb straight into bed. 

The garage door clinks back into place as  _ Alexa  _ issues her reply. 

** _ “Okay. Would you like me to  _ ** ** _ reschedule _ ** ** _ ?”  _ **

“Yes. Set up the same mix for six-thirty AM, tomorrow” he commands as he unloads himself from his car. 

** _ “Okay. Doing that now.”  _ **

Jensen sighs and props his jacket up on its designated hook, stretching out the kinks in his neck as he does so. Some of the tension built up over the past few days eased once he confessed his feelings to Jared earlier, but it might take a while for him to iron out the rest of the creases. 

Of course, not all of them are Jared-related. And now he has a new one to contend with. 

To be clear, he would rather not beat a dead horse if he can. This unrequited love ordeal with  Danneel has been going on _far longer_ than he would have liked. The first time she hinted at her more than friendly feelings for him, they had known each other for just over a year. Neither of them  go to those group meetings anymore where they first met. While Jensen would never discourage anyone from seeking out that type of support, he just never felt welcome there, which he understands to a certain extent. With most of the women there being survivors of sexual assault from a male, him floating around could be traumatising for them. 

Still, he stuck it out for a year, and he and  Danneel grew close during that time of his life. At one point, however, she made a move on him. When her lips touched his, he hadn’t been sure if he had been imagining things. He felt that they were soft and a little moist and there was a tenseness. His first reaction had been to pull away from her and blurt that he’s gay. Telling her that at the time didn’t even make sense because she already knew which team he played for. Her response had been that she  wouldn't know unless she tried. 

Jensen shakes his head at the memory. She’s not the first girl that thought she could be the exception to the rule. A slew of women  have attempted to...  _ tempt  _ him into sleeping with them with no success. This had mostly been during his college days where everyone who hadn’t been studying had been having  sex, and he could have had his pick if he so desired. 

He’s not  _ that  _ guy. The majority of his college days were spent dodging the question as to  _ why  _ he didn’t want to slide between their velvet underground while sneaking off to store his meat somewhere much tighter.

Enough of that trip down memory lane. It’s better not to think about the times when he had more than  _ one  _ reason to hate himself. 

Recalling that he wanted to get in the shower, Jensen heads upstairs to his bathroom. He wastes no time stripping out of his clothes, but he does make sure that they find their way to the laundry basket before he hops in the shower, keeping a few paces between himself and the nozzle as he waits for the ideal heat. 

_This time_, he doesn’t have to go crazy with the soap. He stepped out for a shower after the evening rush, so he just needs a rinse before getting into bed. He knows that it’s not normal, or even good for him to have three showers a day, minimum. He can’t stop now, though. It’s been too long. 

He washes his hair in record time and cleanses himself of the evening grime, rinsing it all off under the pressure of the water. His hand almost slips on the handle as he shuts off the power, using his other to reach for a towel off the rack. 

For a moment, he stays inside the cubicle as he half-dries himself, paying extra attention to his hair. Jensen doesn’t really like walking water all over his house, so he prefers to do most of his drying in the bathroom. It avoids most wet spots, but he can’t escape the steam in the air. 

He takes care of that part in his bedroom, sitting on the towel laid out at the end of his bed. The downside is that he goes through two towels each time he showers—the upside is that he has more than enough of the things to keep up with that habit. 

While he tosses them into the basket, he contemplates whether or not he should wear bottoms for the night. It’s warm enough that he doesn’t have to and his sheets have been pressed and cleaned... He shrugs, calling out to  _ Alexa  _ to shut off the lights as he crawls to the top of his sheets and tucks himself underneath them. 

The moment he settles in, a snippet of his kiss with Jared plays out in his mind. He feels himself starting to stir and bites his lip. More and more since he met Jared, he’s found himself in this situation at night time. He used to be able to go weeks without  _ taking care  _ of himself. Whatever happened to that? 

Jensen licks his lips and gingerly palms his cock, closing his eyes and picturing Jared’s fingers curling around him. He thinks about the way he might hold him in his hands, testing the weight... appraising his girth, wanting to taste him. Jensen breathes out as he jerks himself, keeping his rhythm slow and steady, wanting to ride it out for as long as he can. 

He wonders what Jared can do with his tongue... How he might drag the tip from Jensen’s balls, all the way to the head of his cock, admiring how clean and solid he is. Jensen kicks his legs out a touch, relaxing back into his pillow as he amps up the pace of his strokes. 

What he really wants to know, is how it’ll feel when Jared takes him all the way to the root, his throat more than accommodating his size. Jensen keens then, ignoring the cautious side of him demanding to know why he’s not wrapped in this fantasy—he’s sure Jared’s without disease. Besides, how else would he feel his warm, moist cavern locked around him, ready and willing to swallow him whole? 

Jensen’s eyes crease and his toes curl. He knows that he’s getting close. Just one more final push to take him over the edge. His free hand cups his balls, rolling them over the crooks of his fingers as he coats the head of his cock with a pearl of  precome . He momentarily releases his grip to throw the covers back and reaches for a tissue off the nightstand, preparing for his own climax.

A breath punches out of him, spurred on by the vision of Jared on all fours, the perfect arch of his back showing off his big, peachy behind while his head bobs in Jensen’s lap, working hard to drain him of his essence. He doesn’t complain when Jensen’s buries his hands in his hair, hanging on for the ride-- 

_ “Do you like it when I touch you here, Jensen?”  _

Instantly, Jensen’s eyes snap open and the fantasy clears away. The grip on his cock tightens before softening, his hand falling by his side. It’s not long before he feels his heated flesh shrinking back to its normal state, its only satisfaction the drying pre-come glistening around the head. 

Why does that  _ bitch  _ have to ruin everything? 

Before he can help himself, he’s fidgeting, scratching the pad of his thumb, tensing and untensing his jaw. If he doesn’t start moving around, he knows that he’s going to get stuck like this for a while.

Everything had been going so well until  _ she  _ decided to pay a visit to his mind again... It would be today, wouldn’t it? Jensen covers his face with his hands and bites back a scream of rage. He really doesn’t want to have to deal with this tonight—deal with  _ her.  _ He just wanted to come, clean himself off and then go to sleep... 

“_You’re not going to tell your parents, right, Jensen?” _

“Go away...”

Jensen kicks his covers the rest of the way back and climbs out of bed. He resets them before stomping off to grab his robe. All he can do now is start cleaning and eventually, she  _ will  _ go away. It’s just a matter of how hard he scrubs, mops, wipes and shines. He has to believe that it  _ will  _ work, though or he’ll be lost for what to do. 

A huge, drawn-out sigh of frustration falls from his lips as he stops at the foot of his bedroom door, casting a look over his shoulder. His phone is lying in its usual place in the centre of his bedside table, silent and alone. A thought occurs to him that maybe he could try calling someone... 

It might be too late for that. People will be sleeping. They won’t have time to distract him long enough to bury her away somewhere, and that’s even if they’re able to. Jensen scratches the side of his face, flexing his fingers against the door frame. 

He strides over to his phone and picks it up, staring at the blank screen. Several times, he presses the power button just to see it come to life. He has a message from Chris asking him if it’s okay for Matt to come back to work now that he’s gone more than 24 hours without sneezing. Jensen would laugh if he weren’t currently on edge. 

After tapping the top against his  forehead a couple of times, Jensen finally unlocks it and scrolls through his contacts. He pays special attention to the ‘J’ column, noting the time at the top right of his screen. He doubts that Jared will be awake at half-past one in the morning. The realisation hurts. It wouldn’t be right of him to call Jared so late at night, when the man is most likely dead to the world. Not to mention, something has  _ just  _ started between them. Dumping his problems on Jared this early into it will only dampen his opinion. 

Maybe if it had been earlier in the night. 

Jensen places his phone back in its normal position and walks out of his room, telling  _ Alexa  _ to switch to motion detector mode as he walks through the house. 

_ “You know that if you ever tell anyone, you’ll be the one that gets in trouble, right? That’s why it’s best that we just keep this between us, okay?”  _

His skin continues to crawl as he reaches for the mop and bucket. 

* * *

Jared's been on cloud nine ever since Jensen gifted him with _that _kiss. Never in his life has a kiss left him feeling so _unfulfilled_. Not because it hadn't been perfect. Jared's just salty that it hadn't lead to more. _Much more._ God, he wanted so much more from Jensen at that moment. He wishes that Danneel hadn't knocked on the door. If she hadn't, he would have been more than willing to become well acquainted with Jensen's desk, for example. That kiss had been like having his cake and eating it, too. Jared could write _songs _about how Jensen made him feel at that moment. They may not be good songs... Jared's no writer. Hopefully, they would express, at least to the man in question, just how much he _wants him_, right now. 

He must have orgasmed three times already in the space of a few hours. No matter what he does, he can't stop thinking about Jensen's hands all over him in every which way, his voice whispering filth in his ears and his--Jared stops himself before he has to wring another load out. For goodness sake, he's not sure if he's the one who won't relent, or if it's his penis, at this point. Damn Jensen and his gorgeous mug. 

Jared palms his forehead and groans. He _needs_ to sleep so that he can function at work tomorrow. If he remembers correctly, he's not in until the afternoon, so he had planned to saw logs for about ten hours to refresh his batteries. Yes, he still has time to fulfil that mission, but he's going to fail if he _keeps_ obsessing over _that kiss. _

"I'm a goner," Jared admits to himself, battling to get his breathing under control. If it's not paranoia keeping him awake with this whole Buddy situation, it's Jensen and his _stupidly_ talented tongue. 

At this point, Jared might have to take up recreational drugs just to get some proper asleep around here. He laughs aloud at his own thought, shaking his head no. There's not a chance that he's ever going to risk getting hooked on any of those. Regardless of the oncoming, likely disappointment with Buddy, Jared's pleased with where his life is at right now, and he wouldn't want to risk ruining it all.

"I really should go to sleep." 

Far too hot for covers, Jared rolls onto his side and tucks his arm under his pillow. He can see his phone plugged in on the nightstand, resting. That's what_ he_ should be doing, but here he is staring into space. The thought of calling Jensen crossed his mind earlier, but he thought better of it. When he left the man in his office, he seemed like he had quite a few things to finish up before he would be able to leave, so it had been best for him to let it go for the evening, despite how much he wished to hear his voice. 

_I feel like one of those lovesick morons in those romcoms. _

Thankfully, a powerful yawn crawls its way out of Jared's mouth and his eyes begin to feel heavy. Without needing anything more, he relaxes further into his bed and shuts his eyes, ready to let the sandman take him for the night. 

Even so, a part of him can't help feeling that he's needed somewhere...


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love the back and forths between Jared and the team. It's probably the most fun part of this story, to write, for me.

A lot of things can happen in a couple of weeks. In Jared’s case, however, hardly anything has. Every day since their first kiss, work has gotten busier. Tables and tables of bookings flooding in left, right and centre, making his head spin out of place. The past few days, in general, make the first one  seem like a piece of cake. His arms  _ ache,  _ his feet want to fall off and he’s on the precipice of letting them. It would do both of them a favour, really. He  _ has  _ to wonder how the team have managed to cope with this type of pressure time and time again, never once floundering. He can only hope that one day he’ll be up to par with them. 

Here and there, he and Jensen have had chances to engage in heated make-out sessions, and they’ve taken advantage of every one of them. Jared’s become addicted to the man’s kisses; he would never forgive himself if for some reason he missed an opportunity. Jensen has been taking him to a whole new world every time he introduces a different technique with his tongue... Jared can’t get enough of him. The moment their lips touch, he’s in paradise all over again, the stresses of his life melt away and he gets to just  _ feel.  _

It makes him feel five years younger. Ten would be too much of a stretch... He’s not  _ that  _ old,… yet.  _ _ He wonders where they would be now if they had gotten to know each other back then. At that point in time, he would have been twenty and knee-deep into his college days. 

Those were the times... 

His point is, as much as he’s enjoying the passionate kisses, he’ll feel better about their situation after their date tonight. Yes, that’s right. When his shift ends, he’ll head home to get ready and Jensen will leave someone else in charge for the night. He would have done it sooner had they not been absolutely slammed. Not that tonight is any different... It’s just that the both of them are done waiting. 

Well, Jared is done waiting. From the way Jensen has been upping their trysts to three times a shift, it’s rather apparent that the man is done waiting, also. 

All Jared has to do is get through the rest of his shift. A few more hours and he’s free. He’ll keep that in the forefront of his mind as he charges forward, doing his best to keep up with the rest of the team. 

If he didn’t know any better, he would say that Chris has experience being down in the trenches or something because he’s giving Jared War Veteran vibes with how focused he is on the task at hand, chopping through that meat like it’s nothing more than air. 

Matt’s got six burners going and isn’t missing a beat, reaching out his right hand to catch the bottle of olive oil thrown at him from across the room. Jared finds himself picking his jaw up from the floor more times than he can handle, here. He wouldn’t be surprised if this team won every competition they entered, with Jensen leading them at the front. 

Just the other day, Jensen came into the kitchen, added  _ something  _ to one of the dishes before it went out, and the smell that it created had Jared holding onto the countertop for dear life. Chris had called Jensen “Mr. Magic Touch,” as he walked back out of the kitchen. He had been half-joking. It still took threats to his manhood from the girls to stop him from eating the dish, though.

Jared had been tempted to snatch the dish for himself. To this day, he still regrets that he only got to try one mouth-watering bite of Jensen’s food before he found himself seeking out the freezer. It did lead to that  _ not unwelcome  _ moment between them in the chiller, so he can’t say that he truly minds. Still, it would have been nice to have finished his meal, after hearing Chris go on and on about how good Jensen’s food is. 

To make matters worse, Chris had made it his personal mission to tease Jared with various descriptions of how good  _ that  _ dinner had been, expressing his undying love for Jensen and how he would gladly be his man slave if it meant he would feed him every night. Jared’s not sure if Chris had been joking about that. The look in his eyes had looked pretty damn serious to him. 

Not that it matters now. Chris is aware of their relationship, and he doesn’t seem the type to come between anyone, even if he could. Jared finds himself smiling, then. He feels blessed to have met Chris. The man is like his substitute Chad. The guy that says it how it is and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. He's exactly what Jared needs in his life at basically all hours of the day. 

Half of the good things that have actually happened in his life would never have come to pass if Jared didn’t meet Chad. It’s hard to believe that that pot-smoking, hellraiser is now a Father of three. Jared shakes his head at the thought. If the Chad from the past met his present self, he would probably pass out. 

The core aspects of the boy he first met are still there. Jared can see them all the time he’s with him, but there have been many changes that needed to happen for his friend to cope with his current life. A wife, three kids, a three-bedroom house in a suburban street. Jared’s seen recent pictures of the place, and he still can’t believe that Chad  _ chooses  _ to live there. 

His only peace of mind is that Chad had no choice in the décor. 

So, yes, Chris is Jared’s pseudo-Chad. He should probably introduce them to each other at some point. If anything, it might make for a good social experiment seeing how two similar personalities interact with each other. 

Stowing that thought in a mental pocket, he starts preparing the next ticket. One of the good things that has come out of these past busy weeks, is learning to adapt on the fly and soak up as much experience as he can, which has made him a better Chef, a better employee and a much better member of the team. 

As mentioned before, he knows that he’s not on the same level as everyone else. He’s not sure that he will ever be, considering how long they’ve all been doing this. Nevertheless, he’s confident that he at least won’t be lagging behind, soon enough, and be more of an asset than a hindrance. 

Katie even hypothesized that he would be off his leash in record time, ready to take on the world, metaphorically speaking. Knowing that his team believe in him... There’s no other feeling quite like it. 

“Sorry, my bad,” Jared says after he bumps into  Danneel ,  unintentionally . 

He receives no response. She merely glances at him before shrugging one shoulder and moving on. Something about the interaction feels off to him. As long as he’s known  Danneel , she’s never shied away from voicing her opinion, and he’s not aware of anything that he may have been done to be a  victim to the silent treatment... 

Jared continues to go about his tasks as he contemplates whether or not he should say anything to her. Yes, she technically walked in on him and Jensen making out like horny teenagers, even if she didn’t  _ actually see that,  _ the look on her face had been enough to recognize that she had been fully in tune with the nature of their meeting—but he didn’t do anything  _ wrong  _ to her, so what’s her deal? 

Dwelling on it won’t do him a whole lot of good right now, so it’s possibly in his best interest to let it go until it really  _ needs  _ sorting out. There are enough  _ things  _ happening in his life that require his attention, adding one more to the list will just complicate it further. 

By some miracle, however, Chris heard his inner turmoil and decided to come to the rescue, putting to peace his scrambled thought process. 

“Just a heads up, Jaybe. Ice Queen over there is giving you the stink eye because she’s been crushing on  Jentastic since she met him. She doesn’t know that we know, but we all know. So, yeah. It's nothing you’ve done. You’re just the right gender and build for her dream man, and that’s hard for her. Get it?” 

Seeing no need to continue this topic any further, Jared nods his understanding and mouths his thanks to Chris. He avoids casting a look of sympathy over in  Danneel’s direction. In her situation, he wouldn’t want the pity from anyone, so he’ll be damned if he turns out to be the one to give it. 

Now that he’s thinking about it, what Chris said makes sense to him. He has noticed a few prolonged glances and flirtatious hair-curls from Danneel, to Jensen, but he dismissed them as basic banter for the team. Hell, all they do is make sexual jokes with each other... Well, not _all_ they do. But a lot of the time. 

It’s kind of sad. She knows that Jensen doesn’t bat for her team, so why does she still pursue him? Jared shakes his head and jimmies his wrist, frying red onions. He’s fortunate to be one of those that aren’t affected by its silent aria. He’s even more so glad that his immunity trumps his emotional fidelity to matters of the heart. 

He can’t imagine how difficult it must be for her. It’s one thing when the person someone wishes to be with isn’t attracted to them—it’s another thing altogether when they’re on the opposite end of their sexuality. 

Maybe one day, he can help her find someone that will truly make her happy, and stop wanting... well,  _ his  _ man. As much as he...  _ feels  _ for her, Jensen is  _ his  _ man, and Jared would rather she  _ not  _ want him, if possible. 

Jared gnaws on the inside of his cheek, jaw tense with quiet rage. He would never do anything to hurt, well, anyone. That man has this  _ weird  _ influence on Jared’s emotions. He doesn’t remember a time where the image of  _ someone else  _ doing  _ anything  _ with the person he’s with made his blood boil. 

_ Focus on work.  _

Adhering to his inside voice, he controls his breathing and transitions the fried onions over to the sauté mixture. It won’t be long now before it’s ready to go to plate. 

“So, Jared, what are you wearing tonight?” 

Jared frowns at the question, having not expected it to come from Matt, of all people. He assumed that he was the type who could care less, in general. 

“I don’t know. I have a Tux from this one time where I, um,  _ escorted  _ for some money during  college,” Jared replies, throat suddenly dry. He  _ only  _ accompanied the man to dinner. Nothing else. 

Chris coughs into his hand as he says, “Slut.” 

“You expect me to believe that you’ve never done something for money, Chris? You?” Jared recants,  disbelief on his face. 

For a moment, Chris thinks that over, twirling a wooden spoon between his fingers, “There’s a difference between getting paid because you’re  _ that _ good, and getting paid because you’re available, young Padawan.” 

“Ignoring Magic Mike over there—which he so isn’t, by the way--, you don’t need to wear a Tux. Jensen isn’t a fancy, schmancy dude. He’s clean, yeah. But he doesn’t really care about all that shit,” Matt tells him sincerely as he scrubs the grime off used plates. 

Chris agrees with a nod, “Exactly. You shouldn’t wear a Tux. Or anything. Just wrap yourself in a bow and say take me to your bedroom, Mr. Grey.”

Jared almost does a spit take without any liquid in his mouth, “Eh-hem. Uh, excuse me.” 

“Or that,” Matt contends, and Jared can see his shoulders rising with muted laughter, “I’d pay to see that movie.” 

“ So would I,” Katie adds from her station, her cheeks slightly rosy. She glares at Chris when he starts laughing at her and claiming she has a shrine somewhere of the two of them, “Shut up, you pig. I do not.” 

“Stop confusing your own closet with hers, Chris,” Genevieve says, coming to Katie’s defence, “You’ve been on the Jensen and Jared bandwagon since his tall ass walked into the kitchen.” 

Chris feigns indignance and stomps his foot, “I  _ knew  _ there was a hidden camera in that body pillow.” 

“Guys, in all seriousness... Jensen’s not a Christian Grey, is he?” Jared questions, heart in his throat. He’s not against the idea of Jensen being domineering... He just has zero experience in that department. 

“No, you’re safe,” Katie replies, smirking, “For now.” 

They continue to banter some more, ribbing here and there, making  Jared’s throat dry up even more. The anticipation for when they do...  _ do  _ it is rapidly rising, and he finds himself having to recall the time Chad gave himself a mangina to stop himself from sporting an erection. He reserved  _ that  _ particular image for when Jensen’s in the same room as him, but none of his other methods are currently working. 

“Anyway, Jared. You don’t have to worry so much. Jensen’s practically untouchable, but he’s a rookie when it comes to dating...  _ anyone,”  _ Matt assures him, half turning his way to sink the point home with steady eye contact, “If anything, he’ll probably be a mess, so you might have to lead.” 

“He’s never been on a date?” 

“As far as we know, no,” Chris answers for him. 

“Yeah, I know. How can that possibly be, right? God knows, man,” Matt says, bemused. 

“He’s had  _ a lot  _ of offers, though...  _ what?”  _

“Chris is right, of course. Jensen has had a lot of offers, but he’s never been interested, I guess,” Matt clarifies, sending a look at Chris that seems as if he’s telling him to not expand on that. 

Jared laughs aloud, “Guys, it’s fine. I’m not an idiot. I don’t want to imagine the amount of people that would open their legs for him, but I’m not going to get bogged down in the details of the past,” he claims, though he’s not sure if even he knows if he’s telling the truth on this one. 

Before anyone else has the chance to add to the conversation, Jensen walks through the double doors. Every time he enters the room, Jared forgets how to breathe for a few short beats, mesmerised by his authentic beauty. A beauty so refined that not even the dark, acidic fractures are enough to mar its perfection, and Jared could quite easily bathe in it. 

“Just a couple of notes from our lovely patrons. But first, we’ve got a table of twenty coming in around... half an hour. I can see that you’re already coming along with their starters, so that's fantastic. Anyway, all good comments so far. One lady said she would kill to eat a burger  _ that good,  _ again, so props to whoever made that one. Let’s see... what else, uh—oh, the guy with the nut allergy wanted to thank you for changing the recipe just for him, and that he loved it. And, to finish off, we have a  _ complaint,”  _ Jensen rolls his eyes as he says it, his head shaking. The team eagerly wait for him to continue, “The  _ steak  _ was apparently too  _ steaky,  _ whatever that means,” he tells them, laughing along with his team. 

Jared joins in with the mirth, but his focus is on how Jensen laughs with his whole body. He wishes he could see that every day, and be the one to cause it. 

Once the laughter dies down, Jensen claps his hands together and wishes his team luck, commenting that he knows they can all handle it. 

“Jared, would you join me for a minute, please?” 

“Ooooo.” 

“Shut up, you child,” Genevieve scolds Chris, threatening him with a spatula, “This isn’t high school.” 

Without verbally agreeing, Jared follows Jensen out of the side door. He’s about to ask him what’s up, when he’s shoved up against the wall and Jensen’s hands come up to cup his face. 

Jared can feel the man’s breath on his lips as he says, “What is it about  _ you  _ that makes me act this way, huh?” 

“As cheesy as this sounds,” Jared starts, voice weak, “I’ve been asking myself the same thing.” 

Jensen looks between both his eyes, searching for  _ something.  _ He lowers his head then, resting it against Jared’s chest, who’s more than willing to support his weight, “I can’t  _ wait  _ to get you alone tonight.” 

Swallowing this time,  _ hurts,  _ “Me too.” 

A warm hand crawls up, underneath his double-breasted jacket, stopping on his right pectoral. It sends a pleasant tingle down through his naval, and his hands itch to do some touching of their own, but he stops himself. 

Jensen’s head raises then, holding him in place with one, solid look as he tweaks a pert nipple, “I shouldn't be doing this right now, but here we are,” he admits, a grittiness to his tone that goes straight to Jared’s downstairs brain, “Why am I doing this, Jared?” he asks, eyes pleading for the answer as he pulls him tight against his body and thrusts upwards. 

Jared’s words die in his throat when he feels Jensen’s hard on stroking him through his jeans. It reminds him that they never got to finish whatever it was that they had been doing, then. 

“I don’t know,” he says honestly, breathless, “But I don’t want you to stop.”

At his admission, Jensen’s eyes squeeze shut and he almost growls, connecting their lips for one long, hard kiss before pushing himself away from Jared until he feels his own back against the opposite wall. His hands fly up then as he gets his breathing under control, appearing as though he had just  run a marathon. 

“ _ Not  _ right now... Later. I promise. Just... I’ll see you tonight, okay?” Jensen proposes, looking up at him through  hazy eyes. 

Jared can’t be sure if he’s fairing much better at this point. 

“Yeah... Tonight.” 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to turn it into a two-partner. I haven't actually decided what I want them to do when they get back to Jared's place, though I do have a couple of ideas.

"Dude, he's way out of your league," Chad says, swiping through the photos Jared sent him on his phone, "I think you should save yourself the embarrassment and tell him you can't make it." 

Jared flips him the bird and grabs for his phone, "What else are friends for, other than to tell you you're punching above your weight, eh?" 

"Exactly. So text him that you have the shits, apologise when you see him tomorrow at work and get on with your life. Find a nice, average dude. Let Johnny Hansome shack up with one of the other Sons of Odin." 

He knows that Chad is joking with him. This is something that they do to each other. A part of him does silently agree with what he's saying, though. Jensen is probably out of his league in most respects. It's no mystery that the man could have whoever he wanted if he cast his net out wide enough. That's obvious from the stares of hunger he receives from the throngs of customers that fill up the restaurant day after day. Still, he can't help but thank his lucky stars that Jensen sees something in him that captures his interest. He's not a vain guy, himself. Jared doesn't believe that he is the shit--he is aware that he's, at the least, conventionally attractive, for a man. In his opinion, that pales in comparison to the overwhelming allure of Jensen. 

"Can't I be Thor in this analogy?" 

Chad shakes his head, "You're just making it worse for yourself, dude."

Rolling his eyes, Jared points his phone at the outfit he has laid out on the bed, "What about this?" 

"Those jeans tell me you're not planning on sleeping alone tonight," Chad replies with a waggle of his eyebrows, laughing as Jared makes a litany of suggestive faces, licking his lips, biting his lip, tonguing the inside of his cheek, "That dude's in for the ride of his life." 

"I'm counting on that."

Jared decides to go with the jeans, anyway. He's not sure if they're going to go all the way on the first date, though he can't say that he would be upset about it if they do. His body would be more than grateful for the workover, that's for sure. As far as he can tell, Jensen seemed more than eager to take them there when they got the chance. And tonight would be the perfect opportunity for them to make good on that--maybe he'll finally get an answer as to what may have happened had Daneel not interrupted them. 

"So, how are the rugrats?"

Chad pretends to shoot himself in the head, "Killing me slowly. Unfortunately." 

In response, Jared plays the worlds smallest, invisible violin, laughing at his friend's anguish, "That's what I like to hear. Give them high-fives from me, would ya'?" 

"Screw you. Do it yourself."

"Don't be such a grumpy-puss. You'll only lose what _little _looks you have left," Jared says, teasing him as he gets his head through the top of his t-shirt, "Besides, it's your fault for not wrapping that little pinprick." 

"Bitch, I would whip it out right now and prove you wrong, but my _wife _would be all over me the second I do," Chad replies, facing the camera towards the woman in question, who waves at him in earnest, "You know how much she digs me."

While the two of them continue to rib each other good-naturedly, Jared wonders if tonight is the universes way of finally cutting him some slack. He's been on dates before. Quite a few, actually. None of them filled him with this sense of satisfaction. He remembers turning up to those dates, having a good laugh and a good meal, and maybe even getting his rocks off by the end of the night. He can't say that he regrets them, because they may well have prepared him for the one that would eventually matter. The one that he's going on tonight. 

For hours, he's been asking himself what he should do, since Matt implied that he might have to do most of the work. He's okay with that. He _can_ lead, he just prefers to be directed. Jensen could end up proving them all wrong when he shows up tonight, leading with confidence and grace, giving him everything that he needs from him, and more. Jared's not going to expect that of him, of course. He'll make sure that he's putting his best foot forward, but it would be a bonus if Jensen takes control at certain, acceptable points during the night. 

At one point, he did entertain a couple of ideas as to what Jensen might show up at his door wearing. He dismissed them as soon as they entered his mind, considering none of the choices would actually matter when it all comes down to it. Regardless of what Jensen is wearing tonight, Jared's sure that his mouth will metaphorically hit the floor, and his own imaginations will have failed to do the real deal any justice whatsoever. If there's one thing he can count on happening, it's that. 

Before he had left the restaurant earlier, Chris had given him this _look _that Jared has never seen from him before. He's still not sure what to make of it as of right now, but he has an inkling that it has to do with Jensen, for he felt a degree of silent warning that things would not go well for him if he hurt the man. If that's the intent behind it, Jared couldn't agree more. He would expect nothing less of one of Jensen's best friends, putting their own budding friendship to the side. He would feel the exact same way if he was in Chris's position. In fact, he would say that he felt the muted warning from everyone tonight. It's nice to know that Jensen keeps such good company, and he can't wait to be a core part of it. 

"Are you even listening to me? I get less than an hour to talk to you, and all you do is talk about the blonde Adonis. The minute _I _have something to say, you decide to zone out? Some friend you are. I hope you choke." 

Jared rolls his eyes and focuses the camera, "Are you done trying out for best supporting male role?" 

Chad gasps exaggeratedly, "Are you insinuating that my feelings are nothing more than mellow drama? How dare you, Sir." 

"I'm _sorry _I hurt your _feelings._"

"When you tell Mr Hotty you have the shits, don't forget to flush your toilet." 

Jared laughs heartily, walking over to his wardrobe to pick out a jacket, "But seriously, how's your Dad? Is he getting any better?" he asks, paying close attention to the screen as Chad's face softens a little, eyes showing the weight they most likely feel, "No changes, then?" 

For the next few minutes, Chad explains that his Dad is still in the intensive care unit, and the Doctors have told him that it's not looking likely that he's ever going to come out of there. Jared's heart hurts for him, wishing he could be there to give him a nice, comforting hug. If there's one thing he _knows _he's good for, that's giving hugs. He's never received a complaint to this date, and he doesn't think that will ever change. Unfortunately, he doesn't have the ability to teleport, so he thanks Chad's wife with his eyes as her arms cover the visual, pulling him into a loving hug. Jared tells him that they're all going to be there for him if anything does happen, and that he's always welcome to come over for a few days if he feels as though he needs to get away.

"Thanks, Jay... Look, I'm gonna have to go because it's time to read the kids a bedtime story. I'll talk to you later, handsome. Knock him dead."

Jared makes a kissy face at the phone, "You know you'll always be my number one man." 

"Damn straight. Love you."

"Love you, too, buddy," Jared says, and he means it, breathing out a relaxing sigh as the call ends.

As long as he's known Chad, it's always been difficult to engage him in _hard _talks, which is why he has to butter him up with banter and such before he's loose enough to handle speaking about his own problems. He's one of those people that prefers to bury them as deep as they can and focus on someone else's issues. While there's nothing wrong with that, it's not the most healthy thing to do. It's okay to be selfish from time to time. It's okay to reach out to others. Eventually, Jared devised a method of getting Chad to open up, and it has worked thus far. Considering the lengths that the man has gone for him throughout his life, there isn't a thing that he wouldn't do to help him in his time of need.

Jared puts those thoughts to the back of his mind, for now, knowing that Chad wouldn't want him to be fussing over his issues when he has a date to be a part of. He'll make sure he visits Chad's Dad with him soon and cook for his family. If anything, it will relieve some of the pressure off them for a short while, and he's always happy to help where he can.

His phone tells him that Jensen should be turning up at his door any minute now, so he grabs one of his favourite beanies off his chest-of-draws and heads downstairs to wait, checking his appearance at the bottom. He thinks he looks okay. Not too formal. Not too casual. A nice pair of shoes that he's only worn once. Yeah, this will work for him. 

Not surprisingly, he hears a knock at his door earlier than he had been expecting. To Jensen, who owns a restaurant, being on time means being at least ten minutes early, and he couldn't be more than pleased with that as he steps up to the door, taking in one last calming breath. 

"Who is it?" he says conversationally, as if he's anticipating some random person looking to convince him to join the local Church. 

From the other side of the door, he hears a throat clearing, "There have been some break-ins in the neighbourhood, Sir, and I'm going around checking everyone's personal security."

"Oh, that's awful. What did they take?" Jared says, biting his lip. 

"That's the thing. They didn't take any personal items. It seems this person is more interested in abducting tall, dark, handsome men with dimples on their cheeks." 

"Oh, really? I guess I might need some protection, then," Jared replies, hand nervously clutching the door handle. 

"Do you fit this description, Sir?" 

"Hmm. I don't know if I should say. What if _you're_ the abductor?" 

A deep, throaty laugh resonates through the door, "Then I guess _you'd_ be in trouble, wouldn't you?" 

"See, I'm going on a date tonight with this guy named Jensen--"

"He sounds awesome. Please continue." 

"I mean, he's a little short. But you take what you can get, right?" Jared says, cheeks aching from grinning so hard. 

"I'm positive you'll get more than you bargained for, and I don't think him being _short _is going to get in the way of him kissing you as soon as you open that door." 

At the promise of a kiss, Jared cuts the back and forth off at the knees, wrenching the door open with more force than he intended. He doesn't have a chance to say hi before he has soft, wet lips attached to his own as eager hands take ahold of his waist, walking him backwards outside of his own house. He has the presence of mind to close the door behind him, though he would have preferred if they ventured inside where his bedroom is. 

His back meets the door, then, and he's starting to really like this _rough _side of Jensen more and more, as he breaks the kiss and mouths at his neck, breathing through his nose as he sucks the skin above his pulse point, drawing the blood up, making him bite his own finger to stop himself from crying out at the sensation. 

He can feel his mind starting to fog over with nothing but the need to feel all of this man inside of him, and before it manages to take over completely, he grabs Jensen's head and forces them to lock eyes with each other, "As much as I'm loving this--and I am, _believe me_\--, didn't you have other plans?" 

Jensen wipes his mouth with his hand, eyes questioning his action. He nods his head and twitches his lips. Jared's not sure what any of that means, but he's not going to poke his nose in it. After probably pushing that to the side, Jensen focuses his eyes on him, the skin around them softening as he stares deeply into his own, seemingly lost in their depths. Jared's feeling the same way about the intoxicating pull of the deep forest emergence that never quite gets the recognition it deserves in his mind's eye. 

"Sorry... I, um--oh, I got you this," Jensen says, temporarily breaking the spell as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, "I think it's perfect for you." 

Jared grabs the held out piece of paper, eyeing the man for a brief moment before reading it, "A coupon for _Pottery Barn...,_" he thinks about that, then, wondering what Jensen's intention had been until he remembers that he mentioned how they do these top of the line towels that would be great for him, "Ah, because I sweat a lot. So funny. So clever. You're a genius." 

"I knew you'd love it. It expires this week, so you better clear a day to get some while you can," Jensen says, tone teasing as he leans in for another soft, slow kiss, "I'll get you a personal one for when you're at work. Just don't let Chris touch it, because then you'll have to burn it," he adds, mock-shuddering. 

Jared smiles then, teeth flashing, "This isn't what I was expecting after Matt told me you were a total noob at dating."

Bemusement flashes through Jensen's eyes before he masks it, "Oh, yeah. Right. This _is _my first date. How am I doing so far?" 

"You're actually amazing at this, aren't you?" Jared says, and he doesn't like how that makes him feel. Thinking that others before him have been subjected to this type of treatment has his skin crawling. 

"I don't know about _amazing_. I mean, I have a one hundred per cent success rate, but that doesn't mean I'm _amazing, _does it?" Jensen counters, stepping away from him to sort his jacket out. He straightens Jared's own as he says, "Not that it matters, now. It's been less than five minutes and they already don't compare," he scratches at his stubble then and licks his lips, "There I go being all cheesy again." 

"Cheesy suits you," Jared replies, glancing to the sidewalk, "So, where are we going?"

* * *

"So, Matt," Katie begins as she dices a carrot, "Why did you tell Jared that Jensen never dated anyone?" 

Chris laughs from his spot, "Because he's secretly the Devil, obviously."

Matt shrugs his shoulders, tying up a chicken to put in the oven, "I thought it would be funny when he realizes that Jensen's actually kind of awesome at it. I didn't lie about all of it, just the part that means anything." 

"He's also jealous," Chris adds, grinning like a fool, "Though if Jensen were cooking, I would be, too."

"He's not cooking for him," Danneel chimes in from the other side of the room, "He's taking him out to dinner. Corner table, candles, great view. All that _exciting _stuff. Already has their orders booked. He got Gen to list his favourite meals to her."

"Our boy did well," Genevieve says, teary-eyed, "I'm sorry--it's just I've never seen him this happy since I met him." 

Chris walks up to her and pulls her into a hug, "This is all well and good, but I will kick his gigantic ass if he hurts my Jentastic." 

"Please... Chris, did you _see _the way he _looked _at him? I wouldn't be surprised if Jared comes in tomorrow with a ring on his finger. Did Jensen ask anyone to get his ring size?" Genevieve replies, wiping her tears with the pad of her thumb. 

Danneel's knife clatters on the surface, her palms heavy on the counter, shoulders tight, "I'm sorry--can we just _not _do this right now?" she says, breathing in deeply through her nose before walking off for a breather.

The others watch her go, half annoyed, half understanding of what she's going through. They know how she really feels about Jensen, after all. As much as they believe that she should really work harder to get over him, they can kind of see why she's stuck pining after all of these years in the man's company. 

That kind of rejection stings. 

"She'll be fine," Katie assures them, changing the topic, "Let's keep it up or Jensen will never leave it to us ever again."

"She's right," Chris agrees, releasing Genevieve and returning to his station, rolling his sleeves up to wash his hands, "We've got this, team." 

"Dork," Matt mocks, hiding a fond smile.

* * *

The only thing missing from this date is some person playing one of his favourite songs on a Grand Piano while they slow dance in the centre of the room. Okay, maybe that's a bit of a stretch, but he's thoroughly impressed with what's happened, so far. Jensen must be some kind of secret love guru, saying and doing all the right things to tick each and every box. It's almost irritatingly perfect how good he's turning out to be at this. Jared can't believe that he already had their orders ready, with three of his favourite dishes--well, favourite by proxy... his favourite would be anything made by Jensen--, in a nice, isolated corner of the restaurant, with these beautiful candles that smell like pure, Arabica coffee, which he's considering buying for his own place. 

When they first made plans to have a date, he hadn't thought about bringing a gift or whatever. It's not something that he's accustomed to, since most of his dates happened rather sporadically. It may have been a gag present, but he appreciates it all the same, and it makes him wish that he had offered something in return, so that it didn't feel like Jensen was the only one putting in the effort, here. Still, he can't say that he hates how Jensen is spoiling him right now... If he's this generous outside of the bedroom, he can only imagine what he'll be like between the sheets. The thought of it excites him in ways he can't comprehend, currently. 

Once they were shown to their seats and Jensen took his jacket off, Jared got a look at his black, short sleeve henley and faded grey bottoms. They looked really good on him. Not that this surprised him in the least. At least Matt hadn't been lying to him about the man not being overzealous in his outfit choices. And his clothes look so clean--not to mention he smells like Jared's personal heaven brought to life. It's not fair how outclassed he feels right now. 

"This is normally the part of the date where you talk and get to know each other."

Jared glances up over the rim of his glass, taking a sip before placing it back down. He realises that he must have been staring into space, as Jensen's features relax somewhat now that he's back in the game, "Sorry, I lost my head a bit there."

"You wanna talk about it?" Jensen offers, folding his arms on the table. 

"It just feels like this is too good to be true, y'know? Like I'm going to wake up in my bed and realise it was all a dream..." 

"Then I guess we better make it a pretty damn amazing one." 

Jared finds himself calming to that, nodding his head reflexively, "So what's your number? Since you're clearly Cupid's disciple." 

"I've never had a _long-term _relationship, but I have been on a good few dates. Enough to know what to do and what not to do. I just feel bad because I've ruined them for anyone else." 

"Ruined their hopes that they'll ever have a good date after sitting across from you for five minutes?" Jared jests, a coy smile playing on his lips. 

"Hey, hey, hey. This is _not _the place to discuss my stamina--there might still be children here."

A beat passes between them as Jared decides what his next move should be, "Um, you're not serious, are you?" 

Jensen raises his eyebrows, leaning away from him with his arms crossed. He winks, then, "What do you think?" 

"I think it's hotter in here all of a sudden," Jared replies, fanning his face with his fingers, "Where's a fan when you need one?" 

The man across from him laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners as he leans forward. Jared feels his heartbeat start racing as he watches him release his mirth, eventually raising his head when he's done, "Sorry, but that _face _you just made--priceless." 

_He has an amazing laugh. Should I tell him? _

"I get that a lot. Opening night is tomorrow, and you're right, it really is priceless." 

"I forgot to mention that I, uh, I have this _thing _tomorrow--"

"Pfft. It's your loss," Jared says, hiding his smirk behind his glass. They banter for a bit longer until their food is set out in front of them. He watches as Jensen takes out a bottle of purell from his jacket pocket, the turn offering him another tantalizing view of the stretch of his back and shoulders. The man pours it on his hands, rubbing them together vigorously, lips tense, softening as they catch his eye. Jensen inclines his head, then, silently asking if Jared would like some for himself. Thinking it would make his date feel more comfortable if he does, he accepts the liberal dollop onto his hands, going about cleansing his own palms and fingers. Once he's finished, he looks forward again as Jensen produces anti-bacterial wipes from the inside pocket, getting to work on purifying his utensils. When he goes to reach for Jared's, he stops himself midway, retracting his arm almost apologetically, "It's okay, Jensen. Go ahead." 

"No, I'm fine. Don't worry about it. Let's dig in," Jensen replies, his smile not reaching his eyes. Jared hands over his utensils, caressing the man's wrist as he curls his fingers over the stainless steel, "Jared, you don't have to let me do this just because it'll make me feel better."

"Sure I do. And then you can deal with the spiders to make me feel better," Jared rebuffs, holding deep eye contact, wanting to get his message across clearly that he does not have a problem with this. 

Jensen nods his head, grinning, "It's been _long enough _that you've got spiders to go with those cobwebs?" 

"Yeah. It's not good, man. It's like _Eight-Legged Freaks _down there."

After less than a minute, Jensen cleans Jared's utensils the same way he cleaned his own and then hands them back to him the same way he passed them over, thumb rubbing over the pulse point. They both exchange one more meaningful look, breaking the connection to start eating their meals. Jared catches Jensen watching him from the other side of the table, seemingly pleased when he makes a sound of appreciation at the familiar taste. He sees him smile to himself like he did a good job, and he's not wrong, though he would like to know how he knew about his favourite meals in the first place. 

While they eat, they don't talk much. He had a feeling that Jensen wouldn't be the type to risk accidentally talking with his mouth open, as Jared witnesses him periodically cleaning his mouth and fingers with the wipes that he brought with him. He wonders if this is the reason that Jensen didn't join them for dinner when he cooked for them all at the restaurant. Maybe he doesn't want his staff to see him this way? It hurts to think about whether this is the reason that Jensen hasn't been able to find happiness, yet. On the one hand, he's glad that he got the chance to try his luck, but he wouldn't be capable of understanding why it would be a deal-breaker for anyone--not when the man is nothing but _good _in his eyes.

"It wasn't them, Jay... I didn't feel a spark, I guess. The truth is,.. you're the, uh, first person I've ever shown this side of myself to on a date before. I would normally wait 'til they were out of sight to use the purell or a wipe--I somehow knew that if I did, they wouldn't treat me the same, y'know?" Jensen tells him after they've both finished their dinners, scratching at his thumbnail, "I am a little uncomfortable showing you, honestly... But I think we'll have a better chance if I do, and I want that," he adds, showcasing his conviction in his eyes. 

Jared lays his hand flat on the table in invitation, saying without words that he wholeheartedly agrees with him. Jensen takes the proferred hand, curling his fingers so they lock in place. 

"I just want you to know, Jen, that you can _always _be yourself with me. I won't judge you, _ever. _Okay?"

Jensen smiles, then, glancing down at the table before meeting his eyes, "Likewise, Jay." 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. It's a three-parter. And this one is short and sweet, just to give a little Jensen perspective. 
> 
> Enjoy the read; I'll be working on the final part tomorrow, but I can't guarantee that I'll have it out by the end of the day. I will try my best, though. 
> 
> Stay safe. Stay indoors. Only go out for essentials. 
> 
> As a side note, even I think the dialogue between these two is adorable and I rarely ever use that word. It's mostly reserved for my cats. xD

Jensen observes the shortage in used tables at the restaurant. The lack of people clues him in on closing time approaching, and it bothers him. He doesn't want the night to end yet. There are still so many things that he has to talk about with Jared; more laughs and smiles that he wants to evoke in the man sitting across from him. Jared's cheeks are lightly dusted with a reddish hue. Whether it's from the temperature in the room or the alcohol, Jensen doesn't know for sure. All he knows is that he likes what he's seeing. 

Jared appears to be calm and light-hearted. At the start of their dinner, Jensen had a mild case of anxiety over the possibility that Jared may have regretted accepting his invitation. Despite how much it would have hurt to receive his rejection, Jensen would have taken it to the best of his ability. He can't put into words how elated he is that Jared said yes, though. Several times throughout the night he's pinched himself to ensure that he wasn't dreaming, embarrassingly enough. 

After a slow start, they eased back into their natural back and forth with each other, never missing a beat. Jensen feels warmth throughout his extremities that he'd yet to experience. It's an odd sensation; the tips of his fingers hum on the table, eager to reach out and touch any part of Jared they can reach. Jensen holds them at bay. As much as he longs to be connected to Jared in some way, exercising restraint is the right thing to do. 

Ahead, Jensen can see workers clearing tables and casting sideways glances their way. He knows what they're saying without words. Owning a restaurant himself, he's accustomed to how his staff feel when it comes to the end of the night, and there's that last table that won't seem to get the message no matter how often they convey through their poise that they would like them to leave. 

If they want him to interrupt Jared's story about his friend Chad and usher him out of the building, they need to check themselves. He's not cutting in on Jared's speaking time for love nor money. 

"So Chad's chasing this guy down the street at ass-o-clock in the morning, probably waking up every house he ran past because he's screaming 'Give me back my lube, you asshole'. I gave up trying to catch up with him a few hundred meters away, but I could still hear him," Jared says, mirth in his eyes as he reflects on the memory, "The guy obviously didn't know that Chad could _ run _ with the best of them, and Chad tackled him to the ground--no joke. Ass-o-clock in the morning, on a Sunday, wearing nothing but Cheetah print underwear. I'm walking towards them as fast as I can, people are screaming out their windows for Chad to keep the noise down. And I hear him shouting back, 'Are you gonna help me get my lube back or not? No? Then mind your fucking business'," he continues, and Jensen can't stop staring at his gorgeous smile, "When I managed to catch up to them, Chad was in a tug of war with the guy over the bottle of lube. It was _ this _big, but Chad was determined." 

Jensen doesn't know what Chad looks like, but he's finding himself imagining a blonde chimpanzee flailing his arms around as he struggles to win back his banana. 

"He must be quite the character," Jensen says. 

"You have no idea, man. He's a lot calmer now that he's a Dad, but I wouldn't put it past him to do it again." 

"From what you've told me, Jay, he's been good to you all this time." 

Jared dips his eyes then, sliding his thumb across the table, "Yeah, he has. I have Chad to thank for a lot of things. Including this." 

"Why's that?" 

"For a long time, I had no confidence in myself or anything that I could do. I didn't even go to Culinary School until Chad convinced me to." 

Jensen frowns, feeling as though something is missing from that, "Your parents didn't encourage you to go?" 

"I think they were worried about me being too far away, y'know?"

Nodding, Jensen reaches for the sliding thumb and stops it, "I'm sure they were only doing what they thought was best for you." 

Jared agrees with him, "Yeah. I know. Hell, a few years ago I would have given anything to be rid of this... This... thing." 

"I like your thing," Jensen replies automatically, a feeling of _right _flowing through him as he connects their hands on the table, "It makes you unique. And it's part of you, so I like it by default." 

"Sap," Jared mocks him, rolling his eyes playfully, "Are you saying you'd still want me even if I was blind, death and dumb?" 

"Of course," Jensen answers him, surprised by his lack of hesitation. 

"You're incredible, Jensen... You know that, right?" Confusion must be evident in his eyes because Jared continues, "I just mean that you do all these things for your friends. You're so sweet, and you make time for everyone, and yet you've been through so much," Jared may as well be staring into his soul as he says, "I can't think of anyone else braver than you are, or at least someone that could go through what you did and be half as stable, y'know?" 

Jensen shakes his head, talking to the table as he replies, "I'm not special. I just can't let something like _that _define me," he traces the outline of the paths on Jared's palm, "And you say I'm brave? Jay, you have some undefinable condition that no one else has been recorded having in the history of the world. Despite that, you go to work every day. You go to the movies with friends. You bought your own place. You went to school. You go on _dates_. It may have beaten you down in the past, but _you _showed your condition who's boss. Frankly, I'm amazed that you're as _stable _as you are with it hanging over your head. I'd be in the nuthouse." 

It's Jared's turn to disagree, "I think you'd be fine. No, I know you'd be fine."

For the next few minutes, they seem content to talk about nothing. Jensen catalogues every expression he can ascertain, filing them away somewhere neatly in his head. Jared's such an open person that he's encountered hundreds in one sitting. 

On the third occasion where a worker asks them if they need anything else in _that _tone of voice, Jensen decides that it's time to call it a night. He's comforted by Jared having the same thoughts as he is, thanking the worker kindly for all that they've done for them tonight. 

Jensen paid for the entire meal, but he allowed Jared to leave a tip. Well, Jared insisted that he foot the money for the tip at least because he felt guilty. Of what, Jensen's uncertain. He imagines it's to do with Jared's subtle inclination towards pleasing others, which Jensen will most likely have to get used to. 

With the tip taken care of and their jackets on their bodies, Jensen and Jared head out of the restaurant, throwing one more thanks over their shoulders. 

As the wind flirts with their cheeks, the distance between them lessens. Jensen's hands are in his pockets, stopping himself from pulling Jared into a kiss. Several times in the restaurant, he had wanted to lean across the table and steal those lips in a heated exchange, but he squashed that plan every time. There's something about Jared that has him needy for his touch; his mouth. 

Jensen licks his lips, looking up into Jared's eyes. He doesn't know what he's searching for. It doesn't matter. He's happy to stare at Jared for the rest of his life, trapped in this moment between them. Jared's gazing back at him, fingers twitching by his sides. Maybe he wants to kiss him, too? Jensen told himself that he wouldn't be the one to initiate. For some reason, he feels as though he would be taking advantage if he does. He has done before, but this is a special moment. This is the end of the date--the end of their _first _date. The moment needs to be perfect. 

The longer it takes for them to do something, the more he realizes that he doesn't want the night to end here. His plan was to get a cab and ride it to Jared's house, drop him off, give him a kiss goodnight and then return home. Now he wants to take Jared home, take his clothes off--No. Jensen vowed to the mirror that he's going to be a gentleman about this. Three dates. Then, and only then will they have sex, if Jared will have him. 

What if they get to the third date and Jared decides he never wants to see him in that way again? Oh no. He's starting to panic. 

A hand settles on his shoulder, the stretch leading back to a warm, open face. Jared's touch vanquishes the panic before it can set in. Jensen looks on, transfixed. He can't bear to look away from Jared--he just wants him to lean in and kiss him. 

"Kiss me," Jared requests, voice soft, patient. 

Jensen closes his eyes and breathes out calmly. Jared's waiting for _him _to make a move... Maybe that means that he prefers Jensen to take the lead? He can live with that. Yeah, he can definitely live with that. 

Before he ends up saying something ridiculous like _ I thought you'd never ask, _Jensen rises onto his tiptoes and presses his lips to Jared's. 

There's a different air to the kiss, this time. Something more concrete; a message passing between them that Jensen can't begin to comprehend. He revels in it, bringing up one hand to curl around the back of Jared's neck, lowering to the balls of his feet as Jared dips to accommodate their height difference. Jensen doesn't tense as Jared's hand cradles the back of his head, tilting it to the side to deepen the kiss. Their tongues join the union, ignoring the taste of their dinners to find the genuine flavour underneath it all. 

Air sucks in through the gaps in their lips as they part, going back in without preamble. The pressure is building now. Jensen can feel a light thrum of pain buzzing across the stretch of his mouth as he bears down on Jared's bottom lip, trapping it so he can lightly gnaw at the supple flesh. 

Jared moans in response, his other hand curling around Jensen's back. 

Jensen brings his free hand to the base of Jared's spine, coaxing him closer, lining up their crotches. They both gasp into each other's mouths, inhaling thick air through their noses as the kiss comes to an end, bruised lips remaining joined for several beats of time before finally breaking apart. 

"Wow," Jared says, leaning his forehead against Jensen's, "More of that, please." 

"I wouldn't say no," Jensen agrees, engaging Jared in a chaste kiss, "I don't normally kiss in public, so this is new for me." 

"I know, right? I'm one of those that stands there like _really, guys? Here, in front of everyone? Get a room_," he ends with another light kiss, brushing his nose across Jensen's, "But if it's because they just _ couldn't wait, _I think I get it now." 

The idea of watching Jared walk into his house and then riding home is becoming increasingly harder to swallow. 

"Jared, I... Thank you for tonight. I wouldn't have changed a thing." 

Jared frowns, kissing him softly, "Are you telling me the night is over, _ Boss _?" 

He doesn't want to. He would rather die. But it's the right thing to do. 

"I don't want you thinking I'm expecting something else--"

"Something else? You mean _sex_? Oops. I said the '_S_'word." 

Jensen rewards him with a light grinding of their crotches, "I'm not a prude. I just want us to wait until we've had a couple more dates, y'know?" 

"Does little Jensen agree with that? Should I ask him?" 

Jensen laughs against Jared's lips, kissing him again, "He's not _little_. Don't listen to everything Katie tells you." 

"Oh, I'm sure I can take him. Whatever size he is," Jared replies with a scandalous wink, and Jensen's cock responds by wetting his briefs, "He must be freezing out here." 

"It's not that cold," Jensen dismisses weakly, "I'm trying to be a good guy here, Jay." 

Jared rolls his eyes and rubs against him, "It doesn't make you a bad guy to want to get up in _all _of this," Jared makes his point clear by lining their crotches up perfectly. 

"It's not that I don't want to. I do. Like, really bad. Like, really, _really _bad. I can't help thinking that you'll regret it or something--and that it won't be special enough."

"Do I need to hire someone to write a message in the sky?" Jared questions, eyes shining with elation, "Every moment of this night has been special so far. I can't imagine a scenario where sex with you is anything other than spectacular." 

Jensen grins cheekily at that, "So you've imagined us?" 

"Duh. I imagined us ten seconds after getting my bearings back after you poured a bucket of ice water all over me," Jared says honestly, and Jensen brings up a hand to smooth his hair out of his face. Jared leans into his touch, "And maybe back in school, but I was so delirious that I had no idea what my hero looked like." 

"Sorry to disappoint," Jensen replies, and Jared taps him playfully, "So you're telling me I have expectations to fulfil?" 

"Well, you definitely have _something _to fill," Jared starts, moving one of Jensen's other hands to rest on his ass. Jensen can't help but squeeze it, "You already blew my expectations for kissing you away, so..." 

"Jared, I--"

"How about this? Come back to my place. We'll watch a movie. We'll talk some more. We'll take it at your pace," Jared suggests, accentuating each one with a hard kiss. 

Jensen never wants to stop kissing Jared, "Hmm. It might be too hard for you to keep your hands to yourself with me sitting so close."

Nimble fingers glide over his crotch, and Jensen's hips stutter, "Oh, it's hard all right. And I won't do anything you don't want me to, all jokes aside. I might be straining in my pants, but I'll sit there and pretend I'm flat as a pancake." 

"Honestly, I don't know if I can be that close to you and not do something." 

"I'm not discouraging that." 

"Are you intentionally sabotaging my efforts to be a gentleman, Greenhorn?" Jensen accuses, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

"I wouldn't say _sabotaging_, but I'm not exactly helping either, I suppose." 

Jensen knows for certain that he's not going to be able to maintain his composure behind a locked door. He's close to finding a quiet corner and ravaging Jared, and they're outside. Inside, where no one can see or hear them, he doesn't stand a chance. But something is telling him to go--demanding that he ignore his goals of being a gentleman and to just go for it. Desire is burning deep in his core, urging him to touch and take what's in front of him. 

It tells him that Jared's the only one that he'll ever need. And he can't find it in him to disagree. 

Against his better judgement--against everything that he believes in... 

"Okay. Let's get a cab back to your place, then." 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it. Yay!

As Jensen appraises Jared’s living room, taking note of how tidy it is, Jared hides a victorious smile. After all, he fully intended to maintain the state of the house once Jensen cleansed and polished it that one time. Looking around and seeing how dazzling everything was in his house, Jared couldn’t imagine allowing it to fall to ruin again. Plus, he didn’t want Jensen to be uncomfortable standing in his home. Jensen’s comfort rose above all other reasons he could come up with to assuage the idle part of him that didn’t have that much of an issue with the mess in the beginning. Not that his house was ever _filthy. _He did run the hoover around now and then…

“Jay, your house looks great. Stop worrying,” Jensen says, cupping the sides of his face. Jared wonders if he’s a mind reader, “The look was all over your face,” Jensen adds as if sensing Jared’s line of thought.

“You were half right. I was more worried that you’d be offended by the mess, so I spent an extra three hours cleaning the place earlier,” Jared admits, feeling the heat in his cheeks. Jensen’s eyes darken; lips twitching, “Are you okay?”

Jensen shakes his head, “I’m fine, Jay. You don’t need to go nuts about cleaning your house to please me, y’know? It’s not something I expect,” Jensen tells him, and his tone is slightly accusatory, “I will always rather you be yourself. If yourself is a slob, I can learn to live with it.”

“I’m not a _slob,” _Jared denies firmly, rolling his eyes, “I just sometimes let my clothes and a few dishes pile up.”

“You never said anything about dishes piling up… Ooo. That doesn’t work for me,” Jensen teases, pressing their foreheads together, “I might have to cut the night short.”

Jared traps him with his arms before he can attempt to move away, “What I lack in ability to maintain proper, timely dishwashing, I more than make up for in other areas,” he intones, nipping Jensen’s bottom lip.

“What kind of a Chef doesn’t wash up after themself?” Jensen replies, mock-appalled, guiding Jared until he’s falling onto his couch with Jensen between his legs, “As your Boss, I should be very concerned about who I’ve been foolish enough to hire,” he continues, breath ghosting over Jared’s ear.

He shudders from the closeness, eyes falling shut as a pleasant hum zings through him, “I guess you’ll have to punish me then. I’ve been a naughty, inconsiderate employee after all,” Jared breathes out, chest tightening as he crushes their bodies together, wishing there weren’t layers of clothes keeping them apart.

Jensen groans against his skin, and Jared’s stomach flutters as a venturing hand crawls underneath his shirt, fingers flexing on his navel. He punches out a breath and cranes his neck, offering himself to Jensen’s flirting lips.

And then Jensen pulls away. His pupils are shot, his breaths laboured and staggered as he fights for control, heat creeping up his neck to his ears. Jared can see that he doesn’t want to stop whatever is happening between them. He can sense the desperation in Jensen’s eyes that _longs _to lean down and connect their lips; connect them in other, more intimate ways. Jared’s not going to say no.

Jared understands wanting to take things slow when two beings like each other because there’s that air of it being tacky if they go all the way on the first date. The truth is, Jared couldn’t care less about that right now. He wants Jensen. His body is crying out for the man standing between his legs, hands bracketing him on either side, looking at him like he’s the only person in the world. There’s nothing Jared wants more than for Jensen to claim every part of him, to take him apart piece by piece. Jared wants Jensen to ignore the _gentleman _inside and unleash the _beast _that he can see lying beneath the surface.

“Jared, we should stop,” Jensen says, and he sounds in pain, “I was serious. I don’t want to ruin our first date.”

“You’re not going to ruin it,” Jared replies, curling both hands around Jensen’s nape, “I want you. I really want you, Jensen. If you decide you don’t want me in the morning, no hard feelings,” Jared lies; he would be devastated beyond his understanding.

Jensen looks angry as he shoves Jared into the back of the couch and grinds their crotches together, slapping Jared’s arms away to pin them above him. Jared feels his knuckles hit the wall and he keens, “I would _never _say I don’t want you, Jared,” his voice is quiet, but there’s a strength to it that has Jared’s cock nudging against its restraints, “And anyone that would walk out after a night with you must be braindead.”

Jared smirks, relishing the pressure around his wrists, “Do you want me to give you their numbers so you can tell them that?”

A hard kiss is Jensen’s response, “The monster in me wouldn’t be able to help doing something stupid like stabbing their tyres or something equally juvenile if you do.”

“That’s adorable.”

“Shut up,” Jensen says, but there’s no heat to it, “I’m not really a fighter.”

“I can tell,” Jared agrees, though he imagines from what he’s already seen that Jensen could hold his own if push came to shove, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“That makes me feel better,” Jensen teases, pressing his nose on the side of Jared’s neck, breathing him in, “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Jared senses a fragility to Jensen’s voice and immediately switches angles, dropping his sexual urges off at school for the time being, “What do you mean?” he asks, stroking a hand down Jensen’s back, enjoying how easily he relaxes under his touch, “You can tell me anything, Jensen. I want you to know that.”

“I don’t feel dirty… Around you,” Jensen admits five minutes later, lips dancing on Jared’s neck as he speaks, “It’s weird.”

“You feel dirty around everyone else?” Jensen nods and nuzzles his neck, “Even your friends? Danneel, Chris, Matt and the gang?”

“Worst band name ever,” Jensen replies, a smile in his voice.

“You’re right.”

“It’s not as bad as it is with strangers. What I mean is, I haven’t cleaned my hands once after you’ve touched me. Not even the first time we shook hands. I always carry a bottle of Purell with me, and I didn’t even think to reach for it. I thought I’d have to shower at least three times in one sitting after I carried you to the couch, but I didn’t. I went back to work, had my normal shower there and then got on with my day. And you were really sweaty, man. I don’t wipe my lips after we kiss, or when you’re not looking. I don’t hesitate to touch you or hold you or put my face on you. It’s not as if I haven’t done all of these things with other people, but there has always been a voice in the back of my head saying I’m unclean, and I need to cleanse myself as soon as possible. I guess you can’t really understand how that feels, huh?”

Jared’s jaw clenches, “This is because of _her_, right.”

“Yeah. I’m–”

Jared kisses the top of Jensen’s head from his awkward angle, “No need to apologise. All that matters is you don’t feel that way now, right?”

“That’s what’s kind of freaking me out. I’m so used to feeling imaginary layers of thick dirt coating my skin and waves of nausea that I don’t know what to do with myself now that I’m not.”

Knowing that _that’s _what Jensen experiences on a day by day basis makes Jared thrum with rage. Rage for that poor excuse of an adult that took advantage of a helpless child. Jared doesn’t know what it feels like to have thick layers of dirt on his skin, but he can only imagine that it’s not comfortable. And the consistent feeling of nausea can’t be anything other than nightmarish to deal with. That, he at least understands, since it’s brought on by his weird heat condition. He wonders if that will grant Jensen some semblance of consolement.

Instead of drawing it out and dredging up memories that Jensen probably wants to keep buried, Jared says, “Well I could help you get dirty. It would be my pleasure, so no need to thank me.”

Jensen laughs brilliantly, shoulders shaking, “I guess it couldn’t hurt to try that,” he replies, lifting his head to coax Jared into a short, deep kiss, “You gonna make me sweat, Jay?”

“It’s getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes.”

Jensen grins, “I am getting so hot, I wanna take my clothes off.”

“You better,” Jared retorts, leaning back to rid himself of the top half of his clothes, “You said you’d be getting naked. No takebacks.”

“I was just saying the next line of the song,” Jensen counters, eyes dancing with mirth and rising heat, “But don’t stop on my account,” he adds, standing to unbuckle his belt. Jared’s mouth goes dry, and then he bites it as Jensen stops his actions, “Are you sure about this?”

“Look… Jensen, I don’t want to get fired for this, but save your gentleman routine for when you royally fuck up in some way and have some ass-kissing to do,” Jared answers playfully, yanking Jensen’s belt from its loops, “Or for someone who _wants _you to be a gentleman. Do you know what I _want_?”

Jensen swallows, eyes glazed over, “Tell me.”

“I want you to get your damn pants off. I want you naked. I want you to kiss me, and I want you to _fuck_ me,” Jared admits, a small voice in his head asking him where all of this is coming from.

“So you don’t want me to be a gentleman, huh?” Jensen questions, pulling down his zipper. He tugs his pants down, toes off his shoes before kicking them to the side somewhere, thumbs hooking into his briefs. He pauses, crossing his hands over to tug his shirt over his head. After tossing it and a slight hesitation for his actions, Jensen teases the waistline of his briefs, and Jared’s eyes can’t peel away from the large protrusion, “Well? I fulfilled my end of the deal, Greenhorn,” Jensen reminds him, dropping his briefs to the floor.

As soon as the words register through the fog in his mind, Jared whips his pants and boxers off in record time, not caring where all of his clothes ended up as he stands, grinding their cocks together. Jensen gets a hand around the both of them, pitching up to suckle the skin beneath Jared’s chin, “That’s dangerous. You’re dangerous,” Jared almost chokes, steadying himself against Jensen’s solid foundation, “This could be a problem.”

Jensen chuckles darkly, kissing and nipping his neck as he jerks them slowly, “Why's that?”

“I knew you’d be hot, but this just isn’t fair,” Jared whines, walking them back towards his stairs. They needed to be in his bedroom yesterday, “If there is a deity, they were paying close attention when they crafted you.”

Burning hands don’t stop moving across Jared’s body as he leads them up the stairs, “You think they were slacking off when it was your turn?” Jensen inquires, bemused as he latches onto Jared form behind when he turns, continuing his assault on his neck, “You’re beautiful, Jay.”

Jared feels a full-body blush coming on as he walks them to his room, enjoying the weight of Jensen pressing into him, his hard, leaking cock rubbing against his ass as they walk. He’s about ready to abandon the idea of a comfortable bed and just lean on the nearest wall, but he has lube and such in his room, so they should get their first. Though, if Jensen doesn’t stop kissing and toying with his body, that might be a pipe dream.

The image of his bed before him has him singing a cheerful tune in his head, raising his hands to curl his fingers into the fists at his chest. Jared leads them to the bed, turning to pull Jensen down on top of him, licking a stripe across Jensen’s neck the moment they settle. He’s rewarded with a hip thrust and a leg sinking between his own. Jensen grinds his cock until he finds the perfect glide over Jared’s throbbing erection, provoking him to tuck his bottom lip between his teeth, thrusting up off the bed with Jensen in tow.

“You’re so responsive,” Jensen husks, moist breath tickling his chest. Jared watches Jensen flick the tip of his tongue over his nipple, jolting from the sensation, “I’ll remember that for some other time,” Jensen adds, voice shot. He leans in to connect their lips, one hand keeping him balanced, the other sliding down Jared’s body.

Every touch from Jensen has him chasing for more. He can’t get enough of it, fighting back against Jensen’s lips, palming his firm ass with two large hands before bringing them to meet at the top of Jensen’s spine, effectively binding him to his body as they nip and kiss each other’s lips. His cock brushes Jensen’s in _just the right way _to have him crying out, a vibration forming through the link between their lips.

Jared circles his legs around Jensen’s waist before he knows what he’s doing with himself, trying to inch himself back up the bed so that Jensen’s cock will drop to where he wants it. Jensen sucks on his tongue and squeezes his eyes shut when Jared catches him between his asscheeks, rocking back to encourage Jensen to take them there.

It hits him. Jared can hear something beneath the surface. He can’t make out what the voice is saying, but he knows that it belongs to Jensen. Jared doesn’t understand what’s happening as he wordlessly hands Jensen the lube, and the man holds onto it like a lifeline, pressing Jared into the bed with his hips, straining his neck to deepen the kiss shared between them. He can hear the battle waging war in Jensen’s mind, reminding him that he hadn’t planned for this. He’s not prepared for what’s about to happen. Jared can almost taste the pressure weighing Jensen down against him, reminding him that he’s not good enough.

Jared holds onto him tighter, rocking against him, trying to melt those thoughts away by deepening the kiss, opening himself up to Jensen fully. The clenching of the bottle stills, hesitant fingers getting the cap open as Jensen pushes Jared’s knees to his chest, finally breaking the kiss.

There’s so much vulnerability in Jensen’s frame that Jared wants to choke someone for it. He channels all of the _want _that he can into his eyes as he stares up at him, running his tongue along his lips, hooding his eyes; lashes framing his face as he lies there, looking utterly debauched.

“Christ,” Jensen breathes, keeping his knees planted while an exploratory finger nudges Jared’s opening, “I don’t deserve this…” he grits out, looking away.

Jared grabs his face sternly, guiding him back down until there’s but a couple of millimetres of space separating them, “Focus on me. Forget everything else,” he almost demands, curling one hand around Jensen’s wrist to encourage his breech, “Prove your better than a fantasy.”

So many different emotions filter across Jensen’s face as he wrestles with himself to comply. Jared can sense the self-disgust, the disappointment with not being able to control himself. He can see the doubt raising every hair on Jensen’s body. Jared knows that Jensen wants this; wants him. Every part of him is in full agreement that this isn’t a dubious situation. If he detected any chance of that during, he would have put a stop to it long ago.

_It’s like I can hear him… _

“What is it about you that makes me lose control?” Jensen asks earnestly, pressing one solid digit all the way inside. Jared wiggles his hips and opens up around it, “It’s like there’s an animal inside me trying to claw its way out and take over.”

“Then let it,” Jared begs, pushing his ass back, “Trust your instincts. I trust you. _Please._”

Jensen adds a second finger, keeping one arched as he thrusts them in and out. His facial muscles tick involuntarily, eyes squeezing shut as he seems to lose himself in the tight heat around his digits, freehand leisurely stroking Jared’s cock, “I don’t know if I’ll like what I’ll become, Jared…”

“Jen, listen to me. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” Jared confesses, arching his back as Jensen bears down on his prostate, “Guuh. Mmm. Let go. Just let go and do what we _both _want.”

Jared squeezes the fingers inside him, locking his ankles around Jensen’s waist tighter to draw him in, one heel brushing Jensen’s ass as he gyrates his hips.

There’s a distant sound of something _snapping. _Jared’s has no idea what to make of it, but he’s suddenly being bent back far enough to feel his shoulders breathe into the mattress as artful hands spread his cheeks.

He witnesses the heat in Jensen’s eyes; hypnotised by their intensity, stuck in place as Jensen holds him steady, lathing his wet tongue over his hole greedily, pressing inside and engaging the nerves surrounding Jared’s entrance. He flexes around the tip, biting his lip in response to Jensen’s predatory growl, two fingers breaching alongside his tongue to stretch him out.

Jared pants, hole opening and closing around the intrusion, relaxing with each press and lick of Jensen’s clearly experienced tongue. He can barely make out the muscles in Jensen’s arms bulging as he grips onto Jared tighter, pitching onto the balls of his feet.

When he lifts off the bed while Jensen licks and sucks at his hole, Jared loses his mind. It doesn’t last more than around ten seconds, but it’s enough to have him hot all over–Jensen _lifted _him off the mattress. He hasn’t been _lifted _off the mattress since he got a concussion jumping on his bed at the age of seven.

“Holy shit, Jen,” Jared moans, thankful that his friend Sandy forced him to come to yoga classes with her.

Jensen doesn’t respond to him. He repeatedly thrusts his tongue in, the fingers of one hand biting into his skin as the other hand comes down hard on the side of his ass. Jared grunts at that, wiggling his butt and licking his lips at the warning sound he receives.

He’s never been more turned on in his life.

Jared feels a spark of jealousy when Jensen slows the pace down, grazing his bottom lip against his furled entrance, blowing a gentle current to increase the sensitivity as he drags his tongue across in languid strokes. For Jensen to be _this _skilled, he must have had a lot of practice.

“Fuck… So good…” Jared whines, bracing his thighs with his hands.

But then this might be how it’s supposed to be done, and all the guys that Jared has had before have been total amateurs.

_He should start a class._

Jensen circles the pads of his fingers around Jared’s hole, then, pressing in a touch each time it opens willingly for him. Jared’s having a hard time concentrating. While Jensen tortures him with his fingers, he decides to be the Devil incarnate and latch his lips onto Jared’s heavy, full balls, caressing the skin with his tongue and being so gentle Jared almost cries.

A breath leaves him as he’s lowered back down, stretching out on his back. He doesn’t have much time to compose himself before Jensen’s taking him into his mouth in one, long, pull, plump lips pressing on his groin faster than Jared has the mental capacity to comprehend.

“Oh my—gah–God,” Jared moans, hands finding their way to Jensen’s hair before he can stop them. Jensen doesn’t protest, so he keeps them there, one eye managing to remain open to watch Jensen bob his head up and down.

Jensen’s lips are the perfect pressure. His tongue drags up along with his lips, making Jared’s head feel fuzzy as the wide arch glides over the underside of his cock before he’s released from the heady friction. Jared’s hips jolt in retaliation to the stubble on Jensen’s chin scraping over his cockhead while a devious tongue dips into his slit, lapping up the fresh pre-come.

“_Please, _Jensen… _Please,_” he whines helplessly, mesmerised by the blown pupils staring back at him, “No more teasing.”

Again, Jensen says nothing as he crawls up Jared’s body and draws him into a kiss. Jared moans into it, hands going every which way, vaguely registering Jensen’s blunt cockhead rubbing against his hole.

_I wanna tell him not to wear a condom… But it’s better to wait until we both know. _

Jared regretfully reaches aimlessly for his drawer, pulling out a strip of condoms and thrusting them near Jensen’s hand. Mutely, he takes the offering, leaning back from the kiss to tear one open with his teeth. The action itself has Jared’s body rutting on the bed.

Between his asscheeks, Jared feels his hole closing around nothing, and he lowers his hand to secure it around Jensen’s wrapped cock, swiping the crown over his hole in a silent plea.

Thankfully, Jensen takes pity on him. Or something. He doesn’t know. All he can hear and see is _want. _He lifts his hips when Jensen snatches a pillow out from underneath his head, situating it beneath his ass. Jared can’t help but feel moved by that. Not only will it allow Jensen to go deeper, but it also opens Jared up that little bit more.

Jared tilts his hips up in anticipation, locking his ankles around Jensen for the third time tonight and palming the nape of his neck, “Come on. Do it.”

Jensen pitches forward and bites Jared’s shoulder _hard _as he pushes into him in one, smooth glide. Jared has no idea what sound came out of his mouth, but he doesn’t have time to analyse it as Jensen grips onto him and undulates his hips, pressing him into the mattress, tonguing the space he just abused with his teeth.

He can hear Jensen breathing near his ear, feel the weight of him inside, spreading out the walls of his rectum. Jared’s body rejoices in all of the skin on skin. Gron to groin, chest to chest, forehead to shoulder, thighs to biceps. Jensen feels _right _inside him, pushing, _pulling, _grinding, catching on his rim before slotting back in with ease, like coming home.

Their lips lock, kiss unfocused, breaths mingling in the tight space. Jared is hit with a sense of fulfilment, legs widening, hole flexing around the girth stretching him out. It’s all so amazing, nails running down Jensen’s back; teeth nicking his lips as he holds on for dear life.

Jensen forces him further up the bed, shoulder bumping Jared’s chin as he tucks in deeper, strokes long and seemingly unending, fingers scritching against the bedsheets. Jared rolls his head and catches Jensen’s earlobe with his teeth, relishing the quake it evokes.

Perspiration beads along their bodies, making it harder to hold on, but they persist. Jared secures his arms around Jensen’s armpits, steepling his fingers at the nape of his neck. Jensen responds with a _snap _of his hips, eager mouth spreading out over the fresh bite on his shoulder.

Jared’s heart roars in his ears as he cants his hips back, meeting Jensen thrust for thrust. The _heat _rises, licking strips of simmering embers over his flesh. To his immediate surprise, it’s not unpleasant. It’s warm, inviting, amping up with each push and pull of Jensen’s cock, turning him inside out with its intensity.

“Fuck… _Yes_, Jen,” Jared grunts, eyes rolling back in his head as Jensen tucks his ass in to press as hard as he can into him, knocking the wind out of Jared’s sails. His toes curl, darkness the only thing he can see with how tight his eyes slam shut.

_What’s happening?… _

Jensen moans into Jared’s neck as he turns his head, nosing the pulse point, nursing the skin languidly while he retreats halfway and then presses in flush against Jared’s ass; big, heavy balls riding the crease.

The temperature rises, adrenaline flooding his system. Jared has just enough brain cells left to remember that he’s never been _this _hot during sex. He’s tempted to say he’s having an episode, but it doesn’t hurt–it’s not exhausting; it’s like a heated blanket welcoming him into its embrace. And Jared’s willingly taking it up on its offer, surrendering himself to the physical sauna radiating off of him in waves.

Jensen’s dripping onto his chest and stomach. The sheets are probably drenched in sweat, but Jared couldn’t care less.

“You’re so warm, Jay,” Jensen informs him, finally saying _something _as he grinds his teeth near his ear and throws an arm forward to latch onto the headboard, “It feels… It feels _amazing_.”

Any response he could come up with dies in his throat. Jensen uses his new leverage to strengthen his thrusts, moving them further up the bed. Jared can only tuck into himself, cock pulsing on his stomach. He’s so close… Just a little more.

Jensen is shining above him, the fractions of light peeking in through the window bouncing off of him, make him look like some kind of sexy, ethereal spirit. Jared bites off a loud moan when Jensen tilts his head back to kiss the spot behind his ear, Jared’s fist thumping the bed in retaliation.

Another spike of heat shoots through him, and Jensen’s hips still for a moment before starting back up, the sound being produced between them slick and kind of disturbing, but Jared ignores it.

Jared runs a hand through Jensen’s hair, amazed by how wet it is as he clenches around the man, curling his fingers into the moist strands with a lot of effort.

There’s a heat building in his belly. Not the he’s about to throw up kind. It’s the kind he usually associates with an oncoming episode that will knock him for six. But he’s not seeing it that way right now. It feels like it’s calling out for something. Like it’s calling out for _someone_, rather.

Jensen shakes his head, dislodging Jared’s hand so he can lower his head and join their lips, moving his freehand up to cup Jared’s cheek. He pants softly into Jared’s mouth; Jared mimics him, feeling his orgasm approaching at a tremendous speed.

_I’m gonna fucking come. And he hasn’t touched me. Oh my God, this is hot._

“_Hot,” _Jensen hisses, lip tucking between his teeth as his cock slots in as deep as it can go, fingers gripping the bedframe so hard it squeaks. Jared flexes around him, focusing on each pulse of Jensen's climax as he cries out, neck elongating while his cock pumps out thick loads up his chest and navel, already sliding down onto the sheets, “Wow,” Jensen breathes hotly on his lips, eyes darker than ever.

“I’ve never… Done that… Before,” Jared admits, keeping his ankles locked tight so that Jensen can’t leave him yet, “I should… Tell Katie… She’s wrong about… you,” he adds, struggling to get his breath back.

“Well… She won’t… Believe you… Without a repeat… Performance,” Jensen replies, letting go of the bedframe. Jared accepts the weight of him pressing him into the bed like it’s nothing, refusing to let go, “What do you… Oh shit… Say to that?”

Jared decides to take Jensen’s approach and responds wordlessly, fluttering his hole around Jensen’s cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really hoping that I managed to get across some kind of hidden force that's manipulating them in some way in this, or I didn't do my job. I mean, it's supposed to feel like "Fuck or die" in a way, but not really. If that makes sense?


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wake-up sex. Thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one. It's all it needed, for me. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. :>

“You were right. I don’t like the beast,” Jared jests, rolling his eyes fondly at Jensen’s bemused chuckle, soft lips scraping his shoulder as he kisses a path up to his neck, roaming hands focusing on lightly stroking Jared’s cock, the other following a trail from hip to shoulder. Jared can feel Jensen’s impossibly hard cock painting the small of his back with another hefty glob of pre-come. Jesus. Four times clearly isn’t enough for this man. Not that Jared is going to complain about it, he’s always reverted back to a veritable virginal state after sex. While he’s at a loss as to why that’s the case, he has his suspicions that it has something to do with his odd disorder. Still, Jared would have thought that a  _ gentleman  _ such as Jensen would have been satisfied after one round last night. But no, he wasn’t, apparently, and Jared’s running out of condoms. “Don’t you have to open the restaurant?” he bites out, narrowly avoiding slamming the back of his head into Jensen’s nose when his devious fingers dip under his balls and push inside him without warning. 

“Don’t worry,” Jensen husks, languidly thrusting his thick digits in and out, lips ghosting over Jared’s ear. “I know the owner. He’s a cool guy.” 

“So someone else will open?” Jared avoids crying out when Jensen presses a third in, biting his lip, hard. 

“There’s only one other with a set of keys,” Jensen replies, thoroughly done with this conversation as he brings a hand up to turn Jared’s head to lock their lips, greedy tongue slipping into his mouth without pause. Jared’s glad they woke up earlier, fucked, and then brushed their teeth. Jensen’s a wild card when it comes to hygiene and stuff, so Jared made sure to scrub extra hard. He would hate for Jensen to be repulsed by his breath. “Shut up. I can hear you thinking,” Jensen warns, pressing their lips together again and again, not stopping until Jared feels dizzy with it, turning over to grind their cocks together. Jensen groans into his mouth, one hand palming his ass and pushing them tighter together. 

Jared breaks the kiss with a disbelieving laugh. “I honestly never expected that you would be this much of a horndog.” 

Jensen returns it, laugh lines apparent, making Jared’s heart skip a beat. “I’m not, normally,” he corrects, biting his bottom lip and kissing Jared again, guiding him onto his back, hiking one leg up to come around his back. Jared keens, neck rolling to the side in offering for Jensen’s searching mouth. “Maybe it’s just you.” 

_ You didn’t want to hang around for another round, did you?  _

“Maybe I’m just  _ that  _ good,” Jared replies smugly, peering down at Jensen rubbing his cock over Jared’s hole, a frown on his face. “I only have one condom left, asshole!” 

Above him, Jensen licks his lips, a flash of disappointment in his eyes as he leans over to snatch the last one off the bedside drawer. “I am clean, y’know. I get tested every two weeks even when I’m not actively having sex. Not that I would ever use a public bathroom… But you never know about those seats. And Chris has gotten me drunk more than once,” Jensen explains, shuddering in disgust, contrasting the throb of his cock against Jared’s hole. “My point is, after this one…” 

“I’ll get tested. It’s been a while for me, too, but I cannot risk giving you something, Jensen,” Jared implores him, leaning up to capture his lips in a searing kiss, strong arms coming around him and pulling him back onto a slick lap. Jared doesn’t care, arching his hips back to take the condom and rolling it on Jensen’s cock as soon as humanly possible, sinking down to the base without wasting anymore time. 

“Mmph,” Jensen sounds out, arms tightening around Jared’s back as he raises up halfway, Jensen guiding the motion. “Fuck… Jared!” he grits, bumping his head against a firm chest, pulling Jared down until he’s seated, hips gyrating in long, powerful circles. Jared throws his head back at the pressure, Jensen taking full advantage of his exposed neck, littering it with fresh, deep bites. 

** _Jesus. I think I’m falling hard here. _ **

Jared arches an eyebrow then, cupping Jensen’s cheeks and staring at his closed eyes. What was that? Jared swears he heard a voice in his head then that isn’t his own, and sounds eerily like a copy of Jensen’s… He shrugs, clapping his hands on Jensen’s shoulders to lift himself up and down, sending a silent apology to his bed as it creaks in protest. 

Jensen’s fingers dig into his hip bones, eyes squeezing shut. He looks like he’s losing himself in the sensations, and Jared’s happy he’s the one to bring him to that state, clenching his hole as he rises up and pushing out as he comes down. Jensen snaps his hips in approval, latching onto a dusky nipple, nipping the tip and flicking his tongue with a rough stroke that has Jared’s pace faltering for a single beat. 

** _So hot. It’s so _ ** **hot** ** _. _ **

“Are you okay?” Regardless of the voice in his head, Jensen does seem to be sweating far more than usual. “Jensen?” 

Jensen’s eyes snap open, pupils blown and not at all up for talking, head flopping back as Jared flexes his hole around him again. Jared halts his actions, then, waiting until he has Jensen’s full attention before kissing him softly. Jensen’s face says he’s a little miffed that they stopped, but he’s otherwise nonplussed. “What’s up?” 

“You’re really hot.” 

“Thanks for noticing,” Jensen replies, winking. “I wanted to get all dolled up for you.” 

Jared rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Right. I don’t think it’s me…” Jensen counters, eyeing their linked bodies. “Not that I ever want to think about it, but hasn’t any of your previous… Y’know… Told you how hot it is inside here?” He nods again to the base of his cock. “It’s like a hot tub for my cock. Trust me, I’m not complaining.” 

** _I can’t wait to see what it's like without a condom. _ **

What’s that saying?... Jared ponders, starting off slow again, kissing Jensen in between bringing them flush against each other. Jensen’s hands move to Jared’s ass, spreading his cheeks, lip trapped between his teeth as he rides out the waves of pleasure coursing through him. There’s a feeling similar to when the initial sting of the bathwater ebbs away and you’re left with that pleasant hum. It dances along Jared’s skin, setting his nerves alight with each roll of his hips. He wonders if this is what Jensen is feeling, absently, and then narrows his eyes at his theory… That can’t be possible, can it? There’s no way he should be able to  _ feel  _ Jensen’s pleasure, responding to the light squeezing of his ass, Jensen’s cock pulsing inside him from the slow drags of Jared’s hole. Jared raises until the tip is flirting with the crease, biting back a snicker when Jensen curses up a storm as Jared takes just the crown into him, canting his hips sharply back and forth. 

Jensen squeezes his cheeks so hard that Jared knows he’s going to feel it later. 

**“** Jay! Fuck, don’t stop,” Jensen moans, curling against him. “You’re getting your test after this,” he grits, panting. “I’ll pay to have it fast-tracked. I need to be inside you without this fucking condom on!” he snaps, diving them down onto Jared’s back, seating himself fully inside and grinding his hips down. Jared feels the mattress giving way to their combined weights. He digs his heels into the meat of Jensen’s ass, crying out when he sucks another mark onto his marred neck. 

“Yes, Sir,” Jared snarks, eagerly accepting Jensen’s responding kiss as the coil snaps and Jensen’s cock fluctuates inside him. He’s distantly impressed with the supposed amount that he can sense filling the condom, considering how many loads he’s coaxed out of Jensen in less than twenty-four hours. 

“You gonna come?” Jensen mutters against his neck, body rising and falling as he gets his breath back. 

“I already did,” he admits, not even sure when he did it. 

** _Could you be anymore perfect? _ **

And that’s when it comes to him… One is a chance, two is a coincidence and three's a pattern. Jared has no clue what to make of this… He’d like to know why he’s not freaked out about it. That would be somewhere for him to start, but something about it feels…  _ right?  _ Like it’s supposed to be this way for him, as he strokes a hand through Jensen’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp, enjoying the appreciative, soft moans when Jensen nuzzles his neck contentedly, lazily kissing a patch of skin in response. And the accompanying thought about never wanting to leave his bed. It makes him smile, wondering if Jensen can hear his thoughts in return. Well… That’s if they are Jensen’s thoughts and not just his fevered delusions or whatever. 

In any event, they severely need to have something to eat. Jared is starving. 

“Don’t fall asleep or I might eat you.” 

Jensen lifts his head and waggles his eyebrows. “You could eat  _ off of  _ me.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be appalled by mess? What happened to you?” 

For a moment, Jensen looks like he’s seriously considering that. “I don’t know. I don’t feel like I’m literally caked in dirt right now, so I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth.” 

Jared nods, finding that to be acceptable, even if he had been kidding. “I see. Well, I’m in desperate need of food, so go make me something.” 

“But I don’t wanna leave,” Jensen whines, pitching up to suck on Jared’s bottom lip. “I could order something.”

“No, go make me something. I rocked your world five times, Sir. Your payment is food.” 

“I’d really rather stay here in this bed for the rest of my life, but I suppose one of us has to be a functioning adult,” Jensen says and then grins at him, finally pulling his cock out and tying off the condom. Before Jensen can walk the few steps to deposit it in the bin, Jared slaps him on the ass and calls him a cheeky bastard, to which Jensen replies, “Careful, Greenhorn… You start that, I can guarantee we won’t be leaving this bed.” 

Jared snorts, eyes challenging, and then he thinks better of it. “All right. Make me breakfast, Dance Monkey.”

“After I’ve showered,” Jensen retorts, nose crinkling in disgust as he takes a whiff of himself. 

===

Jensen has never been more against leaving someone’s house. Usually, the moment he enters any house other than his own, he’s planning his escape route before the door even closes behind him. It’s a fantasy, of course. He would never be that rude. And yet, as he stands in Jared’s doorway, shifting from foot to foot, adjusting his rumpled jacket, he hesitates. Jensen is fully aware that he has a business to run, but he also has confidence in his staff to keep things flowing smoothly while he’s away. Especially Danneel, who knows the ins and outs of that place, perhaps even better than he does. Knowing that has nothing to do with why he wants to stay. He just doesn’t want to leave Jared, even though he’ll be coming in for his shift in four hours, which feels like years to Jensen now. 

Everything had been perfect. The date was incredible, the sex was out of the stratosphere. Jensen can’t say he minds Jared having this heat condition thing if it feels  _ that good  _ to be buried in that tight, warm, clenching heat. Jensen’s half-hard just thinking about it, discreetly pulling his shirt lower. As much as he would like nothing more than to charge Jared straight back up those stairs--or use the wall--he’s oddly not fussed when it comes to this gorgeous man, he can’t. He  _ does  _ have a business to run, and Jared might have things that he needs to do before he gets to work. They didn’t get that far enough into the conversation of their plans for today, what with Jensen constantly steering them towards sex. 

That’s another thing that he doesn’t understand. It’s true what he said earlier, that he’s not normally  _ that much  _ of a horndog. If anything, sex had been rare for him before. He got it when he needed it, or when he was drunk enough to not care about much other than his need for release. Which, when he ended up on a night out with Chris, was quite often where he ended up. With Jared, though… It’s odd. He just wants to tear his clothes off even now, or just slip his too-tight sweats down, drop to his haunches and inhale that beautiful cock until he comes down his throat, or turn him around, pull them down past his ass and fuck him hard into the wall. Again, that’s not the standard behaviour for Jensen. He’s a  _ gentleman.  _ Three dates and then he shows them a whole new world. Not one, admittedly spectacular, date and then five rounds of sex spread through roughly fourteen hours. 

Jensen internally shakes his head. Whatever it is that is happening between them… He doesn’t want it to stop. He likes not feeling guilty for having fun, or getting a little dirty with someone he can see himself falling in love with. 

“I guess I’ll see you at work, Greenhorn,” Jensen says, licking his lips. 

“I might be a bit late. Don’t tell my boss… He’ll kill me.”

Jensen laughs darkly. “You best not be then.”

“What kind of asshole doesn’t allow a little tardiness after life-changing sex?” Jared harrumphs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“The kind that wants to see your ass dead on 3P.M. In my office,” Jensen informs him sternly, stepping into his space to draw him into a passionate kiss. “Don’t be late.” 

“I won’t,” Jared assures him, looking dazed. 

Jensen’s happy with that, kissing him one last time before turning around and heading out of the door, feeling suddenly cold and at a loss for what to do. 

3P.M. really can’t come soon enough for him. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting rid of the cheesy chapter titles. I feel like it takes away the serious undertones. :x Also, I'm running out of heat puns so there's also that. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the latest chapter, and I hope this clears up some things about Danneel. I don't want you guys to hate her in this XD She' not evil, I promise!
> 
> We've all had that one person we moon-eye at but know we can't have.

Being in love with her best friend has been both a fortunate and painful experience for Danneel. Fortunate because her love for Jensen has pushed her to be whatever it is that he needs her to be at any given moment, enabling her to be a better cook, a better business person, a better friend, colleague, confidant—she never would have found a passion for any of those things if she hadn’t been besotted with that man.

Then there’s the pain. The deep, heart-wrenching pain that has her feeling as if she’s stranded at the bottom of the ocean, caught on something that refuses to let her break free, the water filling her lungs to the point of bursting. Constantly on that edge of desperation, knowing that she can’t take either of those steps towards fulfilment.‌ Whether that be having the one thing—the one _person _in life that she takes her next breath for, or letting it all go, accepting the crushing weight of the ocean breaking her down into nothing but minerals to feed her children.

All it takes is a smile, a grin, a cheeky smirk or a witty retort and it’s as if she forgets how to stand on her own two feet, knocked off balance by the desolation they bring, tearing her apart piece by agonising piece until there’s nothing left for her to give.

But she comes back to them. Every time. She can’t help herself, needing to hear his laugh, see him smile… Her own mood remains bathed in perpetual darkness, the light shining down on it only when she knows that Jensen’s spirit has been lifted.

As of late, Danneel hasn’t spent more than a minute in the shadows, feeling more like a third wheel each day as she watches Jensen fall in love before her eyes. It hurts, but she understands. And she’s happy for him. He is her friend, after all. She wishes every day that she didn’t feel this way, clinging to the hope that her desire to be with him is nothing more than one _huge _phase that will eventually blow over like a storm.

Year after year, it doesn’t change. She meets people, makes an effort, but it never feels right. It doesn’t feel the same as when Jensen wraps his arms around her, holds her close and leans on her, allows her to take some of the weight off his shoulders. Regardless of the pounds that he has on her, she relishes those moments where he allows himself to be vulnerable.

Danneel supposes that that will be Jared’s job from now on, which inundates her with this writhe emptiness. It’s not fair for her to feel this way. It’s not fair that the world has decided that she’s to be irrevocably in love with a man that she stands no chance with. Why can’t she let him go? Why can’t the universe cut her some slack?

With each year that goes by where she hasn’t gotten over this pathetic crush of hers, she hates herself that little bit more. She hates how jealous she gets—hates how she’s tried to kiss him more than once… But she had to know what those lips felt like, to feel, even just for a moment, that her feelings were returned, that she hadn’t been deluding herself for more than a decade.

If there’s a pill that she could take to make her forget about her feelings for Jensen, she would take it in a heartbeat. Even if it had a side-effect of losing all of her hair. Wigs are a thing.‌ She could get one of those. At least she wouldn’t be falling into bed at night, feeling as though the other half is cold and empty when it’s never been filled by another to begin with.

Danneel wouldn’t change Jensen for the world, but it would help her to get over him if he weren’t… so amazing. He cares about people, genuinely. Unlike the majority of the human race, Jensen actually wants to help others, make them feel better about themselves, build them up when they think they’re crumbling. And he does it with anyone. Not just his friends or the people that keep the lights on.

Everyone.

Jack turned up to work once, face pale, panic-stricken. He could barely get any words out. After some coaxing, it turned out that he and his girlfriend were facing eviction from their landlord, who claimed that they had missed a couple of payments. He had said that they had paid on time, that they never missed anything as he twiddled his thumbs and bounced his knees. Jensen had told him that the landlord was probably lying to get them out of the apartment, promised that he wouldn’t let them end up on the streets. Jensen had spent fives hours after closing time apartment hunting for them, eventually landing on one, paying for the first six months of rent with zero interest and got them the keys for it the very next day.

Now whenever anyone mentions the word hero, Jack is one of the first to gush about that time, singing Jensen’s praises to anyone that is willing to listen, claiming he would kiss him if that’s what he wanted, which they all got a good laugh out of. Even Danneel finds it amusing because Jack’s not even remotely Jensen’s type.

Jared is…

The thing with Jack is only one example of many that Danneel could talk about at length. It’s why they come back to him. It’s why they feel awful if they end up being late for one of their shifts, why they stay that bit extra when the place is busy and they could use the extra pair of hands for another hour… Jensen earns peoples loyalty and respect, a new person falling in love with him one day at a time. The man doesn’t even know how loved he actually is by his friends, his team—his unit.

Chris is willing to die for him, having told them that he’s not above knocking Jensen’s ass out first so that _he's _the one that takes the killing blow.

Katie stares at him like he hung the moon and stars. She won’t even consider dating anyone that Jensen gets a bad vibe from. And hell hath no fury if they so much as utter a bad word about him. Danneel vividly recalls a man Katie went on a date with a few summers ago. As the restaurant had been busy, she asked him if he could meet her after her shift ended—she brought a change of clothes with her so that she didn’t turn up to dinner in a soiled Chefs uniform, and while she was getting ready, the man waited at one of the tables.

Everyone had been kind to the man, offering him water, a bit of company so that he didn’t get lonely, simple stuff. If it had turned out he was going to be a part of Katie’s life, it made sense to get to know them. While that had been going on, Jensen was stressed out, tucked away on the far right of the room desperately getting a sick stain out of the carpet. He had blocked off the area, was wearing more than one pair of gloves and he had been freaking out.

Sick freaks Jensen out the most as he would be violently ill after each time that disgusting excuse of a woman—_no. _Danneel can’t think about that.

Katie’s date had noticed Jensen, took in his pale state, sweat and witnessed his lips moving. Danneel and those that know Jensen; his story, knew that he was muttering short mantras that he used as a coping mechanism, as recommended by his therapist. Katie’s date had no idea. All he saw was a man talking to himself while trying to clean something off the carpet.

As soon as the words _freak _left his mouth, he had no longer been welcome in the restaurant. Genevieve had stormed over to him, her body riddled with anger as she snatched his coat off the back of the seat and pressed it into his chest. Chris and Matt had been watching from the door after hearing her first exclaim of _get out. _They hadn’t known what was going on yet, and that was when Danneel came out of the kitchen as well.

Genevieve had started shoving him towards the exit. No one tried to stop her or help him. The customers and the staff understood without needing to ask that the man had done something to upset her, considering her usual docile nature. Genevieve had kept pushing him, screaming at him that he had no idea what he was talking about, that he had no right to speak that way about Jensen, her tiny body shoving into the man over and over again. His hands rose in a placating gesture, but Genevieve had none of it.

From where Jensen had been, there was no sign he even knew what was going on, and Danneel had decided that it was best to leave him out of it, stepping out of the way as Katie came up behind her asking what was happening out there. Danneel had gestured to the spectacle, Genevieve’s face red with righteous fury, hands repeatedly pushing the man back step by step.

Katie had taken Genevieve’s side instantly, walking up to her, rage exploding out of her when she heard Genevieve’s repetition of him having zero right to call Jensen a freak.

They had all watched on in anticipation when Katie turned her head to stare at Jensen, her eyes speaking of a silent apology even though he hadn’t heard it, and then she whirled around on her date, balled up her fist and slammed it into his nose, shoving him the last step out of the door. She told him never to contact her again, and if she so much as saw him in her periphery, he would get more than a bloody nose.

The restaurant had broken out in applause.‌ Katie hadn’t seemed to hear any of it, rushing to Jensen’s side, apologising again and again as she wrapped her arms around him and rocked him gently.

Danneel had known when she saw Jensen starting to shake violently that it was time to close up early, and with the help of Genevieve, they got everyone out. No one complained, a lot of people offered their own apologies, giving Jensen their best wishes as they walked out of the door, and then they were all by Jensen’s side, spread out with enough room for him to not feel suffocated as Chris and Matt helped him into the kitchen, put him by the sink and put a sponge in his hand. Jensen had immediately started washing the dishes, humming to himself as vacant tears slid down his face.

Katie hadn’t left the restaurant that night. Neither had any of them. They all stayed, eventually falling asleep together on the hard floor. They hadn’t cared. It was for Jensen, and they would do anything for Jensen. Chris had Jensen using his chest as a pillow. Genevieve held one of Jensen’s hands, squeezing him when he convulsed while Chris gently petted his hair. Danneel and Katie kept an eye on him, flinching each time he cried out _No, please, Miss. I‌ don’t like it. _If only she hadn’t offed herself in prison, any one of them would have been more than willing to do the job themselves—Katie had said so that night more than once, eventually crying on Danneel’s shoulder. Throughout it all, Matt worked on meal prep for the next morning, eyes flicking to Jensen every few beats. Danneel had assumed that with each cut he was imagining that bitch.

Speaking of Matt, he practically worships the ground Jensen walks on, _begrudgingly _being the first to offer to help whenever Jensen needs it, working more hours than is probably healthy and never complaining about it, wing-manning for him, doing his utter best to ensure that Jensen has the best birthday of his life year after year… And so many more things, really.

They all love him. Not like Danneel does… Not in the way that she shouldn’t, but she’ll continue to suppress that love until it finally gets the message and allows her to move on with her life.

That’s what she tells herself as she walks into Jensen’s office, takes one look at him and reminds herself to take one breath at a time. She approaches his desk, drops the reports in front of him, opens her mouth to make a witty remark, and immediately switches to concern when she sees that he’s fiddling with his pen, chin resting on his knuckles and eyes looking shot.

“Jensen? Are you okay?”‌

===

Danneel’s question penetrates the grating voices in his head telling him that he doesn’t deserve someone as beautiful and perfect as Jared, that he’s going to ruin him, turn him from a positive source of light to bitter and twisted darkness.

He’s not sure how to answer her. All he knows is that he wants Jared. No, he _needs _Jared right now. His skin is crawling, the _dirt _getting thicker and thicker as he squirms in his seat, sweat beading along his ‘brow, teeth chattering.

A couple of hours ago he had been fine. He was happy, staring at Jared’s ethereal face and committing every part of it to memory. He settled on one of his smiles, those gorgeous lips stretched over white teeth, dimples creasing his cheeks like half-moons. Now he can’t think straight, eyes directed at the screen but not absorbing anything flickering back at him.

It’s as if he’s in a trance and the only thing in the universe that can pull him out of it is Jared. Jensen cuts his eyes to the time, sees that Jared won’t be in for another hour. The news makes his shoulders deflate and he drags his hands down his face, tips of his fingers lined up cheek to cheek, covering his mouth as if keeping something in, hidden, a secret not even he’s privy to.

Danneel’s speaking to him, vying for his attention but he’s not sure he can even look at her. His ass is stiff from being seated for so long. He should get up, move around, do something. He’s _rooted _though, legs not listening to any orders he can get through to them from his brain for them to stand him up.

If he rises, he’ll only fall again.

The voices talk over Danneel, reminding him how disgusting he is. They tell him he’s a waste of air and no decent person should have to suffer through that. He doesn’t listen, focusing on the memory of Jared’s hand running along his skin, his ass clenching around his cock, legs wrapped around his waist, locking him in place so he couldn’t leave the space even if he had wanted to.

He thinks about the words of encouragement that Jared whispered in his ear, telling him how much he wants him, that he never wants it to end. Jensen had to agree. He would still be in bed with Jared right now if they both didn’t have jobs.

Thinking about Jared calms him a little, enough to drop one hand to his desk while the other swivels his head around to face Danneel, who’s fiddling with her hair nervously, looking like she’s been calling to him for a while.

“I’ve been better,”‌ he says, opting not to lie to her. There would be no point. “I slept with Jared last night.”‌

Danneel, to her credit, takes the news well. “Don’t take this the wrong way but… what? _You _slept with someone on the _first _date?‌ Scandalous.” She tries to brighten the mood with a small smile, pushing his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m as surprised as your face,” he replies, snorting. “They won’t stop telling me I don’t deserve it.”

He gives her a small smile. She nods her head to let him know she understands what he’s talking about and hugs his neck, pushing his head into her chest as she strokes her fingers along the nape.

They feel like barbed wires cutting into his skin, leaving trickles of blood in their wake. Her touch is soft, delicate, almost reverent but Jensen doesn’t like it. He doesn't want her to touch him…

Jensen’s body wants to recoil, to push his spinny chair as far as it will go to the right so that he can get away from. He doesn't, not wanting to hurt her feelings. This is new to him. He’s never minded Danneel’s touch, so why the sudden revulsion to it?‌

Jared’s face flashes in his mind’s eye, the force of it compelling him to discreetly peel away from her hold, heart hammering in his chest as something akin to infidelity plays out on a loop in his subconscious. Why does he feel like he’s cheating on Jared just by allowing Danneel to touch him? Of course he would prefer for it to be Jared who had held him, but he and Danneel have been comforting each other for more years than he can count on two hands.

Danneel says nothing about him shrugging her off, composing herself with a not-so-subtle intake of breath.

“I’m sorry, Danny. I just need space right now,”‌ he tells her, putting as much assurance that it has nothing to do with her in his tone that he can.

She looks at him like an acre-wide puzzle, processing his words with one keen eyebrow arched. “Okay, Jen. It’s fine, honestly. Is there anything I‌ _can _do to help?”

“Can you run tonight?‌ I‌ think I need an office day.”

Danneel still looks concerned, nodding her head and gesturing to the reports again. “Well, last night was a huge success without your ass here steering the ship, so I‌ can’t imagine we’ll sink after one more night without you,” she offers with a wink, turning on her heel and leaving him alone, pausing at the door one last time to level a stare over her shoulder before letting the door slip closed

Alone with his thoughts, Jensen attempts to counter the louder voices screaming that Jared will be better off without him, inundating his mind with sense memories of Jared’s warm, smooth skin beneath his fingertips, the softness of his lips that opened up to him without delay, inviting him in. He thinks about Jared’s dimpled smiles, fists clenching in his lap. He wishes he could kiss them now, show Jared how much he appreciates them, especially when they’re just for him.

Jensen can’t recall a time in his life where he’s ever felt _this _needy, the minutes he’s apart from Jared feeling like hours; hours feeling like days. It’s unusual, ridiculous. Jensen doesn’t understand it, this pull that Jared has on him, an invisible attachment that feeds off of the distance between them. He feels empty, incomplete—hollow. A shell of himself, trapped in a world of nothingness and misfortune. His stomach hurts, longing for something he can’t give it. Longing for the one person that can soothe the ache.

Every day, Jensen has come to work with a smile on his face, thrilled with the prospect of feeding old and new customers, hoping that he might brighten their day just that little bit before they move on. The money is good, of course. It keeps them afloat, keeps him in his house, Danneel in hers and the rest of his staff in a warm bed to sleep in. But that’s not what important to him. He wants to see people smile and make sounds of contentment as they dine on his food, the food his staff worked their fingers to the bone in order to perfect. Nothing made him happier than witnessing rosey cheeks and appreciative licking of lips, another satisfied customer for him to preen over.

Nothing at all… until Jared came into his life.

Now, the only thing he can think of is finding a deserted island somewhere, buying it, begging Jared to live with him there for the rest of their lives. He would gather wood, hunt for food, discover the wildlife… with Jared by his side, a big, toothy/dimpled smile on his face as they came up with recipes for the new treasure trove of ingredients they would have at their disposal.

It sounds perfect to Jensen, waking up every morning next to Jared. That’s his heaven right now, tension starting to leave him as he pictures it. Jared’s arm slung over his chest, head tucked into the groove of his shoulder, one leg thrown over his haphazardly. Jensen wouldn’t be able to stop himself from taking in the sight. Probably for far longer than he should, eventually having to wake Jared up, his cute nose crinkling in annoyance at being disturbed.

Jensen sighs, leans back in his chair and allows the rest of his fantasy to play out, desperately avoiding staring at the clock.

===

Before this morning, Jared had planned to go to the department store and get a few things. He hadn’t counted on how he would feel after Jensen walked out of view. One moment, he had been fine on his feet, ready to face the day. The next, he slid down his wall and forced himself not to bolt down the street like his ass was on fire searching for Jensen, planning to drag him back to his house for round six.

It had been touch and go for a long moment, Jared biting into his knees to keep himself seated, giving Jensen enough time to get out of harm’s way. The notion terrified Jared, shaking him to his core. The way he feels about Jensen is… dangerous. His heart beats wildly when he’s around, his body overheats, his face hurts from the amount of smiles Jensen so effortlessly coaxes out of him.

Everything comes easy to him when he’s with Jensen. He doesn’t feel like he’s talking too much, Jensen listening to every word he’s saying with so much attentiveness that Jared feels his stomach drop when he does it. He would think it were odd if he didn’t do literally the same thing, hanging off of Jensen’s every syllable, his ears sucking them all up greedily, committing as much of it to memory as possible.

Jared’s put effort into dates and such in the past, don’t get him wrong. He’s never been a slouch. Always asked a million questions, made them feel included, talked about the things that the like. He found that no matter how much enthusiasm he offered them, they didn’t return the favour when it was his turn to speak. Jensen, though, he never looks bored or like Jared’s overstaying his welcome, stealing the spotlight or whatever.

No, Jensen encourages him to continue. He asks him what happened next, what the other person said, did he ever find that missing shoe. They’re silly things. Dumb, nonsensical bullcrap that not even Jared cares about. But it’s his life. They’re things that happened in his life, and Jensen wanted to know everything.

He doesn’t interrupt him or make him feel like he’s too loud or obnoxious. Jared can talk about _anything _with Jensen. He can sense that, loves that. That’s what he’s always wanted when he envisioned the person that he would end up with in his life, someone that he can be himself around, truly. Someone who notices that he’s trying not to be too over the top with his hands and tells him to let them speak. Someone who turns their phone off when they sit down to dinner or a movie or anything of that nature. Someone who looks at him like he’s precious.

Someone… someone like Jensen.

Jared takes in a calming breath and takes the coffee pot off the burner, eyes skimming the clock to check the time. He still has a couple of hours before his shift. Maybe he could turn up early? Jensen doesn’t seem like he’ll mind, and it would be nice to spend some time with him before they have to go back to being boss and employee…

Hm…

A slight whirring to his left alerts him that he has a message. Jared tries not to get too excited as he picks it up and unlocks it, failing three times in his haste to check if it’s from Jensen.

When he’s finally in, his face sours marginally, disappointment heavy in his gut. It’s Buddy. Jared bites his lip and furrows his brows. What could he want?‌ There’s no way Jared’s meeting up with him when he has work in a couple of hours.

_Meet me in 20 minutes. Hildas Brew. Middle seats. _

Jared tries not to scowl. Buddy’s a little… odd but he’s not insane, he thinks—hopes.

_I have work at 3. Can it wait?‌_

His reply is pretty damn quick.

_No. 20 minutes. It’s important. Please?‌_

For some reason the _please_ actually brings a smile to his face, somewhat making the decision for him. Jared can’t help but think that it was an afterthought, Buddy drumming his fingers on the table, huffing out a breath as he added it on, probably assuming that being polite may work in his favour.

If that’s his reasoning, he’s not wrong.

Jared sends him a text back saying that he’ll be there, darts around the place, downs his coffee, shrugs into his clothes, nearly trips as he hops into his shoes and bursts out of the door.

It doesn’t take him long to get to the diner. The place is doing well for 1 P.M., and Jared’s happy for them, waving and smiling as he enters. He’s greeted, asked if he’d like his usual. Jared declines, saying he’s meeting someone there but he’ll definitely be getting a coffee to go, which they laugh about together.

Buddy’s waiting where he said he would be, head down, hand spinning his phone impatiently. Jared shrugs. He’s on time so he’s not going to do something stupid and apologise for being late.

Jared settles across from him, folding his arms on the table and raising one eyebrow in invitation for Buddy to talk.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Buddy says, and he looks really tired. Jared feels a pang of worry that he dismisses. Even though he hasn’t done anything weird like pull a gun on him, Buddy is still a mystery and low-key threatening him. “I‌ have something to show you.”

“You’re not gonna ask me how my date went?” Jared jokes, hiding a smile behind a cough as Buddy falters, squirms in his seat and cracks his thumb knuckles.

“How was you—”

“I’m kiddin’.”

“Oh, thank God,”‌ Buddy gruffs, wrings his hands. “So, um… Right, look at this.”

He taps his finger on a blown-up image that seems to have been printed off, either at the local library or his local computer. The pixels are a little harsh on the eyes as Jared stares at them, wondering what this gigantic crater has anything to do with. It’s difficult to discern from an image but Jared would estimate that it expands to about 45 acres. There’s nothing around it, a veritable wasteland that could very well have been brimming with life before whatever caused the small hole in the world came along.

“What am I looking at?”‌ Jared questions, feeling a pit of dread forming in his stomach.

Buddy studies him for a minute, takes in his eyes, the glow on his cheeks, the breadth of his shoulders. He’s figuring something out, watching, observing, unnerving him. Jared wonders if he does this every day, watches people, picks them apart, carves out things they didn’t even know about themselves. While he feels uneasy under the man’s scrutiny, he’s not… afraid. No, he’s curious, in fact. Wants to know what Buddy is thinking about when he tips his head, lips set in a thin line before tucking into his mouth.

_"This _is the aftermath of a small asteroid,” Buddy starts, leans back in his chair, folds his arms. “Luckily no lives were lost since it hit a section of Texas that housed no one at the time. Still doesn’t.”‌ He stares out the window then, catches sight of two dogs circling each other, tails wagging excitedly at the prospect of making a new friend. Jared watches too, bemused.

“The reason I’m showing this to you, Jared,” he continues, turning with a smile.‌ It’s a smile that reminds Jared of the Doctors who poked and prodded him for hours on end. This is how they would smile when they _thought _they found something, something one of the other Doctors had overlooked.‌ Buddy seems sure, though–certain, like there’s not a chance he could be wrong here. He folds his arms on the table and leans in, eyes gleeful, belying the dark circles bracketing them. “is because this happened on the 19th of July, 1982. And I’m sure I don’t have to tell _you _why that’s a big deal.”

Jared’s heart may have just stopped for a second, Buddy’s words effectively double the pit of dread. That’s his birthday… His _literal _date of birth, and he thinks that has something to do with this giant-ass crater? What could he be talking about? What does his birth have to do with any of this, and why does it make him feel sick to his stomach?

There’s something lingering in the air. Jared can taste it, bitter breaths entering his lungs with each laboured pull in. He’s not sure what’s going to happen next but he doesn't like the way Buddy is looking at him, like _he’s _the key to unlocking all of the world's secrets, that the truth lies within his eyes, his face, his blood—something hiding beneath the surface, and Buddy wants to dig it out, shovel at the ready.

This whole thing makes him nervous. Buddy’s face makes him nervous…. But even with fear clawing at him from both sides, Jared feels something—something like _hope _for the first time in a long, long, long time. 

So he mirrors Buddy’s position, leans in, takes in a calming breath.

“Tell me what you know.”‌


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://twitter.com/TigaEasy I started a Twitter account. Come follow me and talk to me about your Wincest/J2 head-canons. :) I'm always happy to chat and answer questions that any of you might have about my works, provided it's not a spoiler XD
> 
> Also, let me know who to follow since I'm a Bambie right now. :>

Other than the odd timing of his birthday and that asteroid, Buddy didn’t offer Jared anything that he hadn’t already heard before, however, acted as if this one detail would change everything, that it would be essential in bringing the untold mystery of his life to a close.

Pfft. Yeah. Jared’s heard that one before. He’s not convinced that this revelation is going to be any different to the other times that people have sat him down and claimed to be getting closer to figuring him out. It’s a waste of time to hope, even if his gut is telling him that he shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss Buddy’s findings, that there’s something worth clinging onto there.

What’s the point? Say he buys into Buddy’s fantasy and goes on some grand adventure with him… Then what? He spends a couple of weeks chasing down a lead that ultimately gets them nowhere, takes away time from his life that he could have spent doing literally anything else, and comes back more miserable than he had been when he left? That doesn’t sound fun to Jared. It doesn’t sound like a good time. It sounds like a waste of one.

But is that just the bitter disappointment that he’s been saddled with from his teenage years leading into his adult life talking, or does he have a valid reason to be so negative about this?

Jared shakes his head and keeps walking. A car passes with a dog hanging out of the passenger-side window, tongue flapping in the wind as it pants with a dopey grin on its face. It makes Jared smile. He loves dogs, after all.

Buddy had been grinning like that at the restaurant. Jared still wasn’t getting it, not even when Buddy made a very clear gesture between him and the photo. He said the two of them are connected. He said this asteroid is the key, the key to it all, that they need to go down there and check the place out, find out why it’s so important.

Shrugging, Jared turns the corner towards work. Work… and Jensen. Ever since he sat down in the cafe with Buddy, there’s been unease crawling along his skin, and no matter how he adjusts himself or casually rubs the material of his clothes, it’s not going away. There’s an itch, a deep itch that feels like it’s beneath more layers of skin that he has the capability of reaching.

There’s something unsettling about it, urging him to double his steps. Jared does, breaking out into a light sweat by the time he reaches the door and rushes through the entrance, smiling at Megan who’s working the front.

“Hey, sweetness. How was your date?”

Jared rolls his eyes. “Is everyone gonna ask me that today?”

“Well, I could ask you _how big _instead. Which would you prefer?”

To his credit, he lasts five seconds before laughing and drawing her into a hug. She accepts it and pats his back, commenting on his smell. Luckily, it’s the good kind, not the offensive kind.

“He talks a big game, is all I’ll say,” he lies, omitting the part about how Jensen’s big, thick, well proportioned and able to work Jared’s body like he was born to play it. “Where is he anyway?”

“In his office,” Megan tells him, arching one, thin ‘brow. Right. He said he wanted to meet in his office, but he’s normally out on the floor by now making sure everyone is enjoying their meals. “Y’all best go see how he’s doin’.”

Jared agrees wordlessly, offering her one last smile before he makes a beeline for Jensen’s office, quickly uttering a couple of hellos to Chris and Co on his way over. At the door, he’s somewhat nervous, which is unwarranted. Last night couldn’t have been more perfect if Jensen tried, Jared’s thrilled to see him again, even now, so he’s got no reason to be fiddling with his jacket.

The door opens without him needing to knock and he’s pulled inside, lips descending on his in rapid succession as needy, shaking hands duck under his clothing to get to his flesh. Jared arches into Jensen’s caresses, a snarky greeting on the tip of his tongue, swallowed down by Jensen’s tongue pressing hard and defiantly into his mouth, as if tasked with conquering it.

Jared doesn’t have the will to push back, head thudding on the door from a particularly sharp thrust of Jensen’s neck, soft touches changing to greedy and demanding, fingers digging into his hips, Jared’s legs parting on instinct when a thigh wedges between them.

There’s a brief pause then, deep rumbles vibrating through Jensen’s lips. He teases Jared’s lips with barely-there brushes, breathing wet and hot over his top lip, hard cock rutting against his thigh, eager hands racing up his chest to get at the top buttons of his jacket.

“Jensen… Dude, I need to get to work,” he says, impressed he didn’t moan halfway through.

“Your boss will understand. Trust me,” Jensen replies, settling his lips on the side of Jared’s neck, not biting or kissing, just existing there. “I need you.”

“Is everything okay?”

Jensen doesn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, hands working Jared over, reaching into his slacks and curling around his cock, languidly jerking him with care and expertise. Jared thrusts into his grip, wishing he had more room to spread his legs. Jensen doesn’t seem like he’s going to move anytime soon, though he does get Jared’s slacks down to his knees, giving him more room to control the tempo, alternating from slow and true to quick and messy, which has Jared bucking and smacking his head back on the door, all while breathing against that spot on his neck.

“I don’t know. I got here… I came to my office and I just… I couldn’t stop thinking, and then the voices said I’m not good enough for you, and then Danneel gave me a hug and I don’t know why, but it made me feel worse.”

While it’s difficult to talk about feelings when Jensen is giving him a handjob that Jared would pay _good _money for, he tries his best.

“I know it doesn’t change anything because we all have _that _voice, but you are good enough. You’re more than good. Please don’t stop,” Jared adds, flushing. “When you say _worse, _what do you mean?”

Thankfully, Jensen doesn’t stop jerking him off while he responds, stealing a kiss beforehand.

“I was, like, physically repulsed by her.”

Jared smirks.

“That’s called being gay, Jen,” he replies, laughing.

He stops laughing when Jensen coats the head of his dick with pre-come, brackets it with his knuckles and uses his thumbs to massage it until Jared’s lost the ability to speak, fist almost entirely in his mouth, biting hard into his flesh, eyes watering from the effort of holding back screams. Jensen goes back the other way then, half-circling the underside while tickling the edges with his knuckles.

“Smartass,” Jensen says, and Jared can breathe again when he goes back to slowly jerking his cock. “I don’t cry at the sight of boobs, all right?”

“You don’t? I do. Especially the ones with big areolas.” Jared shudders. “So she hugged you and you were reminded of that one time at band camp. What did you do?”

Jensen laughs and kisses him, hard.

“I didn’t push her away. That would be rude. But the weirdest thing was it felt like I was cheating on you,” he replies, suddenly stopping. Jared makes a wounded sound and he starts up again. “Does that make any sense to you?”

So Jensen wants him to come up with a hypothesis at the same time as willing himself not to come all over Jensen’s really nice shirt? That’s hard. No pun intended. Jensen gives him the time to think about it, having switched to slow, sensuous drags, busying his lips and teeth on his chest after popping a few buttons.

“I don’t consider giving someone a hug cheating. Unless you have a boner. Did you have a boner, Jensen?”

Jensen shakes his head and squeezes his cock for good measure.

“That would be the day,” he says, rolling Jared’s swollen balls over his palm. “It would be doing the world a disservice to deny them your hugs, even if I am a greedy bastard who wants them all to myself.”

“You can have my ass as a consolation,” Jared offers, letting out a squeak when Jensen claims it with a groping hand. “Just not in front of my parents. They still think I’m a virgin.”

The reply he gets is so quiet that Jared has to ask Jensen to speak up.

“I said I wouldn’t have minded if you were a virgin.”

Jared palms Jensen through his trousers meaningfully.

“You’re not the best size for a first-timer, Sir,” he concludes, biting his bottom lip when Jensen snakes a hand down the back of his slacks and strokes a finger over his hole. “But I would have made it work or died trying.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I would have been gentle.” Jensen pitches up to his ear and licks his lips audibly. “The first time,” he clarifies, catching Jared’s earlobe between his teeth.

A wave of _want _crashes through Jared like a tidal wave climbing over the shoreline. He pushes back into Jensen’s advances, forgetting that he should be arguing more about how he needs to work. He can’t bring himself to care about it, losing himself in the tongue swiping over his ear, the hand lightly squeezing around his cock, the twitching of fabric against his palm.

Jared drops to his knees without thinking about it. To his surprise, Jensen hauls him back up and moves him over to his desk, getting his hands under his ass and shifting him on top of it. He settles between his legs, nipping his chin, hands gripping the edges as he ruts against Jared’s hard, leaking cock, Jensen’s still trapped inside his pants, crying to get out.

“No disses to your mouth, Jay, but I wanna be buried deep in that ass,” Jensen says, getting his own pants down to his knees, cockhead bumping Jared’s balls. “I’ve never had sex in my office before.”

“That’s a tautology,” Jared snips, ridding himself of his bottom half and allowing his knees to be pushed back to his shoulders.

Jensen crooks one ‘brow.

“Come again?”

“You don’t need the _before _since you already said you’ve never had sex in your office,” Jared answers snarkily, spreading his legs wider. Jensen’s hips automatically press further forward, cock riding the crease. “I hope you at least stocked your office with condoms.”

“Well I was hoping one of those interviews would turn into something more, but it never did,” Jensen jests, looking sheepish. “I don’t have any on me.”

He looks so disappointed that Jared feels an _oh, honey _coming on. By some miracle, he manages to stop himself, gesturing to his pants on the floor.

“I anticipated this.” Jensen doesn’t comment on it as he digs the condom out of Jared’s back-pocket, however, he does make a face that begs Jared not to say anything when he half-circles his desk to pull a bottle of lube out of his drawer. “You jerk off at work?”

“Who doesn’t?” Jensen claps back, returning to his position and rolling the condom on, lubing it up moments later. He adds on while testing the give of Jared’s hole, “Maybe I won’t need to now that I’ve got you.”

“I sincerely doubt you beat your meat that often to require lube in your office,” Jared replies, smirking at him.

“I did after you showed up.”

It’s a bit lude, but Jared finds himself smiling warmly anyway, reaching out a hand for Jensen to grab onto while he pushes into him, both men hissing out a breath when Jensen’s fully seated.

The talking lapses, nothing but breathing that has zero rhythm to it, sharp snaps of hips, grunts groans echoing around the room. Skin pulls tighter and tighter, muscles strain, voices break off on stuttered _ah, ah, ahs _as the desk supports their weight, barely a protest from the sturdy wood. Jared relaxes into it, letting Jensen bend and twist his body in any way he wants, surrendering his pleasure to him, trusting that he’ll get him there, even as his eyes slide shut and his hands slump down on the desktop.

Jensen slots up against him, leans down, kisses a trail from the start of his jawline to the other side, hips pumping, cock stretching him out and nudging up along his prostate, pressure building in his balls, his back, his thighs, abdomen.

He’s getting close. He can feel it, the tingle running down from the slit of his cock to his aching balls, the light hum of his feet, the pain in his teeth from gritting them so hard, jaw throbbing from the effort it takes. Jensen’s office is not that far from the kitchen. If any one of them hears what’s going on, they will give him hell for it the moment he walks in there.

Just a few more thrusts, a few more fleeting kisses and slow grinds and Jared knows he's gonna explode, cock hardening that bit further, ass clenching, pulling strained grunts from Jensen’s throat, who licks his lips and pillows his face on Jared’s chest, hairs tickling his chin, hands gliding down his sides and curling around his thighs to pull him back into Jensen’s thrusts.

Jared’s toes curl, his throat goes dry, his head thrashes from side to side, arms burning as he closes his fingers around the edges of the desk, snapping off Jensen’s name like a prayer, begging for something… The end? A repeat the moment it’s over? Jared doesn’t know, but he says it, body loose and open now, Jensen’s cock conquering his body just as his tongue did Jared’s mouth, draping his body over Jared in such a way that there’s hardly any space between them, ass arching up and snapping down, punching the next breath out of Jared’s mouth.

It feels so right, everything Jensen is doing, speaking to Jared in a language that only the two of them can understand. It’s magical. It’s breathtaking. It’s something Jared doesn’t possess the ability to quantify. All he can do is embrace, accept what’s happening, cling on for dear life as Jensen cants his hips, rocking up and down on the balls of his feet, tucking his ass in, pressing so hard into Jared that he feels it pulse up to his head, like a ripple in the water, expanding out until his entire being _feels _it.

The heat makes its appearance then, warming Jared’s core. He doesn’t fight it this time, taking it in hand as he reaches for Jensen’s closest one, bringing them both to his chest. Jared stares into Jensen’s eyes, tracking the deep, dark, desperate want swimming in their depths. They’re open, open for Jared to see and feel, to love and accept, to want and crave. And he does. He returns Jensen’s want with his own, hooking his ankles around Jensen’s hips, squeezing him tight, trapping him inside his body as he flexes his hole around Jensen’s cock, drinking in the snapped off curse and loss of motor controls. Jensen melts onto him, crawling up his body, nosing his jaw, hissing against the side of his neck.

Jared realizes that he’s waiting for him. He’s waiting for Jared to get off first, which is typical, and he really could but he wants them to come together. He wants to feel Jensen’s cock filling the condom while he comes between them and flutters uncontrollably around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

“God yes,” Jensen says randomly, apparently hit with a dose of stamina, lips crashing against Jared’s, hips snapping hard and fast, arms curling up and around Jared’s back, hands meeting at the base of his neck, rubbing, pushing, clinging onto him. “Do it!”

Obeying to the completely out of context demand, Jared breaks the kiss on a muffled groan onto Jensen’s shoulder, coming so hard between them that he almost blacks out, a sense of serenity washing over him with the addition of Jensen’s cock swelling up inside him several times over, soiling the condom with heavy, long spurts of come that has Jared kind of wishing he finished in his mouth.

Jensen growls lowly, pinning Jared back on the desk, tongue trailing up his neck to his ear. “Next time, for sure.”

“What?” Jared questions dumbly.

“I’ll finish in your mouth,” Jensen promises, followed by a weak thrust. “Dude, I could literally stay like this all day.”

“I need to work,” Jared whines after a lull. “I don’t wanna be the office slut.”

Jensen snorts.

“It’s in your contract,” he jokes, rolling his hips. “Besides, you need a change of clothes.”

“My clothes are gonna be dirty by the end of my shift, Jen. Your special sauce isn’t gonna make a difference.”

“Stop being reasonable,” Jensen warns. “Wouldn’t you rather have an office day with me? Preferably like this.”

“Of course I would—”

“Then it’s settled—”

“No,” Jared counters, nipping Jensen’s nose. “If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll blow you on my break.”

Jensen waggles his eyebrows.

“You at least need to shower before you start handling food.”

“And where would I do that?”

Without getting off of him, Jensen points to a cleverly disguised door with a framed, wall-mounted photo of the ribbon cutting of _The Good Kind of Ackles. _Jared hadn’t noticed it the few times he’s been in here, probably because it blends in so well with the rest of the room that no one would immediately think, oh, bathroom when they saw it.

“It’s a pretty roomy shower, too,” Jensen adds, the innocent look on his face betraying the intentions behind it. “And it’s best to conserve water. Especially in this day and age.”

Jared grins at him.

“You could just say you want to shower with me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was gonna ask Matt,” Jensen replies, winking at him. Jared reaches for him when he pulls out and off, shucking out of his shirt as he strides to the door. “When you go in there, tell him I’ll be waiting.”

Even though he’s messing with him, Jared’s heart rate skyrockets and Matt’s handsome face is suddenly an annoying tick in his jaw. He chases after him, the two of them giggling like fools, eyes full of mirth under the gentle spray, exchanging kisses, rubbing soap into each other’s bodies, taking turns pressed back against the wall, water splashing around them, taking that one step further, aligning their bodies.

Jensen feels _right _against him. He can’t say for sure, but it’s like he’s making an effort to keep them connected in some way as he goes about rinsing him off, taking far more time than is probably necessary washing Jared’s hair, fingers massaging his scalp. If Jared was a cat, he’d be purring, head lolling back into the onslaught of Jensen’s skilled fingers, a soapy moustache appearing on his top lip not even enough to ruin the mood.

He gives Jensen a soapy beard in return. They laugh and smile at each other, pretending to be fancy gentlemen at a ball, which turns into snooty voices and before Jared knows it, they’re making out again, soap swirling down the drain beneath their feet, and Jared wishes that he didn’t have to work.

Eventually, they dry off. Jensen changes into one of his spare pairs of clothes while they talk shop about their favourite food and the first time they cooked for their respective families. Jensen subtly adds in that they could talk more about it if he stayed in the office with him, but Jared insisted that it wouldn’t be fair to the others, to which Jensen begrudgingly agreed, though he offered to pay them extra as hush money so that he could steal Jared away whenever he wanted.

When they’re both fully dressed and ready to get some work done, Jared calls back to Jensen’s earlier confession about Danneel, surprising him.

“You told me you don’t feel dirty around me, right?” Jensen nods. “Do you feel dirty around Danneel?”

“I did today. But not normally. We’ve known each other a long time, and while it’s never been like it is with you… the not feeling dirty thing, her and Chris are probably the closest seconds,” Jensen explains from where he’s spraying and cleaning his desk. “So it’s all a little confusing.”

“Well, I’ll just tell her to keep her hands off my man and then you don’t have to be burdened with all that confusion because she won’t be touching you at all,” Jared says thoughtfully, shamelessly ogling Jensen’s ass while he buffs the desk. “Problem solved.”

Jensen hums at that, pausing to think on something or other.

“So possessive, Jay,” he husks, throwing a wink over his shoulder. “Good. I don’t share, either.”

“I was kidding. Kind of. I’m not gonna stop someone from giving you a hug or even a kiss on the cheek. But if they go for those lips, I’m getting the fisticuffs out.”

“That was hot until you said fisticuffs,” Jensen replies, laugh lines clear around his eyes. “Now, go on. Get to work before I lock that door and bind you to my chair.”

“Is that a promise?” Jared asks cheekily.

Jensen points at the door.

“You better run, Jared,” he warns, lowly, making a show of stalking up to him. Jared dashes forward and steals a quick kiss before rushing out of the room like the Devils on his ass, his ears picking up the, “I haven’t forgotten that you said you’d blow me on your break!” half-way down the hall.

The moment he enters the kitchen, he knows that all eyes are on him and his rumpled clothes. He snaps a look at the clock, noting that it’s… _holy shit… _5:30 P.M. Well damn. When he got to work, he had no intention of spending that much time in Jensen’s office but here they are.

“And what time do you call this, young man?” Genevieve asks, moving into position with her arms crossed, one foot tapping a staccato rhythm. “We said you could stay out with that Jensen boy for _one _hour, not _two and a half.”_

Chris sidles up next to her, mirroring her stance. He shakes his head, as if thoroughly disappointed. “Now you’ve gone and made your mother cry!” he exclaims, and Genevieve turns on the fake waterworks. “You know how she worries when you play around with the bad boys.”

“Oh, he is bad,” Jared admits, sighing dreamily. “But he’s so bad it’s good, Mom and Pa.”

Katie snickers. “We heard,” she informs him, seasoning a lovely looking steak. “If only Jensen’s office had cameras in it.”

“It does when he does interviews,” Matt adds, not looking up from the pan of mixed vegetables. “He probably jerked off to it.”

“That’s why he had the lube,” Jared says, as if he just cracked the case. “I should charge him extra for jacking it to my likeness.”

There’s more casual ribbing as they get to work. No one says anything about him being _late. _Instead, they have him doing three tasks at once. Chris claims that if he wants to get his rocks off during cooking time, he has to be prepared to be put through the wringer after he’s done. Jared tells him he’s just jealous, and Chris tells him that’s exactly right, that he’s been wanting to use Jensen’s shower for years. If he had known all he had to do was drop his pants and bend over, he would have done it already.

The workload picks up at half six, the five of them going into overdrive, rolling up their sleeves and pairing off to get shit done faster. Jared readies the deserts with Genevieve, Chris and Danneel work the burners, Katie and Matt chop, dice, slice, saute, sprinkle, whatever it takes to get the dishes ready, all of them coming together as a unit to get those orders on the plates and out to the customers.

After the 56th consecutive dish, it’s close to closing time and Jared is pleasantly exhausted. Whether that’s from the heart-pounding sex earlier or the feeling of a good, hard day of work, he’s not sure. He’s not questioning it, putting together something to eat for himself while it’s quiet, having ignored his stomach for the past few hours in favour of work.

He didn’t take a break since it wouldn’t have been fair. Two and a half hours is enough time away from the kitchen, in his opinion.

As he’s adding a little something to his dish, Danneel comes up to him and pokes him in the side. He flinches minutely at the sudden prod, head twisting to take her in. She looks a little unsure of what she’s doing. He decides not to push, letting her have the floor when she’s ready to say whatever it is that she has to say.

“You’re good for him,” she starts, and Jared knows she’s talking about Jensen. “Maybe a little _too _good. Jensen’s _never _taken an _office _day.”

Jared blushes.

“They don’t call me the succubus for nothin’,” he says, clearing his throat. “Sorry you got saddled with all the work.”

Danneel waves him off.

“I’m just glad he’s happy. I’m sure you’ve heard about… y’know… by now.” He nods. “I’m not proud of it, and I wish I could just forget about it, but it’s difficult.” She takes her hat off and shakes her hair out, eyes cast off to the side. “So, do me a favor and turn him into some royal asshole so I can forget how great he is.”

“Oh, Danny, when I’m done with him, he’ll make Hitler look like Princess Diana.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... I wonder if I'm just lulling you guys into a false sense of security with all this hot sex? Who's to say?...


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, the last scene was hard to write. I teared up a couple of times and had to take breaks. But I got through it, and I'm glad. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the latest chapter! :D

Putting aside whatever plan Buddy may have in the works for him, Jared can’t help waiting for the other shoe to drop. Relationships… _Friendships _are not supposed to be _this _perfect. There’s supposed to be fighting over dumb shit, getting in screaming matches for no apparent reason, arguing over who gets the right side of the bed, and then making up with some seriously awesome sex. That desperate kind where there aren’t any words and there’s more anger than there is love, but by the end of it you’re both clinging tight to each other, wondering why you were even mad in the first place.

To be clear, Jared doesn’t _want _to have an argument with Jensen. He doesn’t _want _to upset him at all, however, there is no such thing as a perfect relationship, where the other person just happens to synchronise with you in every way imaginable.

Jared likes the right side of the bed. That’s fine, Jensen likes the left side. Jared likes to snuggle, kiss and touch when he wakes up. No problem. It helps Jensen wake up and stop being a grumpy sourpuss, which is far too cute for Jared to really put into words. It’s something you’d have to see. Jared sleeps naked. Jensen has zero issues with this. Jared walks around the house naked. No issues there, Jensen encourages this, even walks around the house naked with him, laughing his ass off when Jared does the _Peniscoptor _while Jensen’s frying eggs, whole body lighting up with mirth that dies down when Jared swaddles him up in a loving embrace.

The both of them get hard pretty quickly, and then Jared’s twisting his hips and smacking his cock against Jensen’s like they’re fencers and their dicks are their épées, which turns into some weird-ass sword fight, until their cocks are slick with precome and they’re making out fiercely, Jared’s back thudding against the fridge, Jensen kissing him so hard his lips ache, grinding their cocks together, holding them both in one hand, the other squeezing Jared’s ass.

Jared loves waking up with Jensen. Especially when they’re bone-tired from a ridiculously busy shift and neither of them are in the mood. It helps that they would have already done it in the morning and at work, but it’s the first time after they wake up that has him all hot and bothered, opening up to Jensen without any hesitance at all, clenching relentlessly around his cock for as long as it takes to wring the first load out of him.

He can’t wait to take Jensen bare. Those test results can’t come back soon enough. If the way Jensen tries to take a peek at his phone whenever he gets a notification, face souring at the realization that it’s a normal text is any indication, he’s on his last nerve, too.

That, and the hints that he keeps dropping… _It sure would be nice to stop having to drop by the drug store. The lady behind the counter winks at me every time I buy another box. _Jared told him he could go to the free clinic, that no one would give a rats ass if he shovelled several reels of condoms into a bag and came straight to his place. Jensen’s reaction was a very slow… _You want me to go… In a free clinic… _And that was all Jared needed to get that that was a stupid suggestion, thoughts of Jensen decked out in fifteen sets of gloves, a hazmat suit and an oxygen mask. When he shared his thought with Jensen, he laughed heartily and said he probably wasn’t wrong.

Soon. Soon, he reminds himself, running his hands through Jensen’s soft, sleep rumpled hair. He strokes Jensen’s back with his other hand, tuning in on the sound of his soft breathing, wondering, not for the first time, how he got so lucky to have been given even the chance to exist in Jensen’s world. He’s been told by Jensen, at length, that he’s the lucky one, but Jared doesn’t believe this to be true for a second.

Jensen is a sweetheart, a gentleman, a romantic, strong, brave, funny, a little eccentric, introverted at times… He keeps Jared’s energy levels in check with the rub of a hand, a shoulder breezing past his, fingers flirting with the small of his back. It’s not that Jensen is shushing him. He’s putting his hands on him, grounding him, and Jared’s losing the ability to form coherent sentences or words in general. Jared knows that he could flounce about, talk as loudly as he wanted to, flit around like he’s got ants in his pants, and Jensen would stay by his side, watching him, staring on with fondness.

It’s with a heavy heart that Jared contemplates, realistically, how much time he has to bask in the glow of Jensen’s light before it all inevitably fades away, leaving him empty, longing for something that not even his arms stretch far enough to grab ahold of.

The thought has him tugging Jensen closer, tilting his head down to kiss his crown almost reverently. He kisses him there three times, wanting nothing more than to pass a message through his lips that says what no words in the English language can. Jensen nuzzles into him, humming in his sleep, provoking a smile from Jared. He kisses him again, a feeling of protectiveness crashing through him, awestruck by the courage that Jensen possesses, trusting someone to hold him like this, to… _love _him like this.

Jared hums in response, chuckling softly when Jensen’s body shudders, fine hairs standing on end. He gets choked up from the profile of his face. Those soft, pillowy lips he can’t get enough of kissing. The slope of his cute, tilted nose. The smattering of freckles high on his cheeks and sprinkled around his nose, shoulders, back, hands… Jensen has so many beauty spots. And then there are those eyes, fanned by the most gorgeous lashes Jared’s ever had the privilege of seeing. His boyfriend is beautiful, breathtaking, nice, charming, modest as all hell, and yet he chose Jared…

It’s amazing.

On their first night together in bed, Jensen told Jared that he’s an extremely light sleeper and he’ll probably be up way before he is, so be ready to meet _Grackles. _Jared did meet _Grackles. _Only, he met him at 7 A.M. when they woke up, had sex, and then went back to sleep. Jensen had confessed that he’s normally up at the ungodly hour of 5 A.M, due to being restless, having a nightmare or worried that he didn’t clean _something _in his house, so he was, frankly, shocked that he stayed asleep _that _long.

Since then, Jensen’s been sleeping in. A lot. Danneel has been opening the restaurant more often than not now, jokingly insisting that he might as well just hand the business over to her now that he has all he needs. Jensen often makes a face at those types of comments, eyes going all soft and half-lidded as he cuts to Jared, then acts as if she didn’t say anything at all.

The fact that he _can _sleep in fills Jared with a sense of contentment and a feeling of _right _knowing Jensen can relax around him, can settle around him, doesn’t fret around him… He’s able to lie over him, tucked into his neck or under his chin, limbs soft and supple instead of tense and rigid. Jared loves it when they fall asleep like this because he gets to marvel Jensen’s perpetual beauty and feel his heart beating against him. While he very much enjoys feeling Jensen pressed to his back, arm secured around his middle and warm breath fanning over the nape of his neck, there’s something about getting to bear the weight of his sleeping form, knowing that he’s supporting such precious cargo…

Love erupts inside Jared’s chest, heart skipping a beat as he slides himself further down the bed to settle Jensen’s head on his shoulder, gentle puffs of air flirting with the flesh surrounding his carotid. It tickles a little but Jared pays it no mind, eyes focused on the dazzling features of the man he can see himself decades in the future with, loving him more and more every day, doing his absolute best to make him smile, laugh—look at him, _see _him, just cast those eyes on him so that he can take in his next desperate lungful of air.

He can’t resist the urge to kiss those sinful lips. A touch. Soft, fleeting. His body almost vibrates when Jensen’s lips push out like they’re instinctively responding to his affection. It makes him smile, kissing him again. The angle is awkward and it’s not good for his neck, not that he cares. He’d break his neck fully just for one more kiss.

Jensen’s eyes start to crease then, nose twitching, lips parting slightly. He’s starting to wake up. Jared’s heart pounds against his ribcage, excitement mixed with the slightest disappointment that he can’t watch him sleep anymore churning in his stomach, making him sweat. Waiting is hard but it’s completely worth it… To get to see those eyes crinkle and then flutter open, lashes dancing, mouth parting on a groggy yawn. Jensen smacks his lips together, breathes in deep through his nose, shamrock green eyes taking note of Jared watching him wake up.

A smile stretches his lips. It’s half-hearted. Grackles or Grensen is piloting the ship right now. Jared beams at him, leaning close to give him Eskimo kisses, laughing when Jensen's face scrunches up, looking altogether disgruntled by the sudden assault, though he does nothing to stop him.

“Mornin’, handsome,” Jared says, stealing a quick, hard kiss. Jensen stares at him, insulted, so Jared makes a show of rolling his eyes before kissing him again, chaste and passionate. Jensen won’t open his mouth until he’s brushed his teeth, much to Jared’s chagrin. As a compromise, however… Jared grins to himself, reaching blindly for the bottle he left on the side drawer. “Here. Have some mouth wash, grumpasaurus.”

Jensen eyes the bottle suspiciously, takes it, moves to sit up and then deflates. Jared clicks his tongue, snatches it from his limp hand, pulls off the cap and pours a shot. He motions to the filled cap, expecting Jensen to get up. He doesn’t. All Jared gets is a raised eyebrow and a scornful look at the receptacle in his hand.

After studying him for a couple of beats, Jared clocks on to what he’s getting at, tips the cap back and then brings their lips together. Jensen opens up to him immediately, the harsh burn of the mouthwash something he’s already regretting, as well as the bits spilling out of the corners of their lips from the awkward angle.

The kiss doesn’t last long, Jensen breaking it to move and probably spit in the sink. Jared’s not willing to let him leave yet, so he grabs the bin, tells him he can bitch about it later, waits for Jensen to spit and then leads him into a _real _kiss, Jensen waking up more halfway through, taking control, pressing, sucking, pushing Jared’s head back onto the pillow.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” Jensen gruffs when their lips break away, tongue rolling over his bottom lip. “Times’it?”

“Ten, roughly.”

“You’re a bad influence on me, Greenhorn,” Jensen admonishes lightly, kissing him sweetly. “Too bad you’re too damn comfy for me to do anything about it,” he adds, flopping down onto him, looking to all the world like he has no intentions of ever leaving his position.

“It is my day off, after all,” Jared says, trailing his fingers down Jensen’s back. “I should get to spend it with my boyfriend, right?”

“Damn straight,” Jensen agrees, kissing the side of Jared’s neck. “I say we just sleep all day. Here. Like this. Because this is good. I’m good with this. You?”

Jared shakes his head, holding back laughter as he gives Jensen a light tap on his ass. “When I finally gave in to your pitiful begging to be with me, I wasn’t expecting to have to do all the work.”

Jensen snorts.

“Ha. That’s funny. Remember who pays your wages.”

“Oh, I remember. He’s currently drooling on my neck, and I’m distraught that I don’t have access to a camera for blackmail purposes.”

“I am _not _drooling. Don’t be gross,” Jensen denies, Jared opting not to bring up the actual wet patch on his chest from earlier. “You love it anyway, so shut your face and go back to stroking my back.”

“Yessir,” Jared ascents, doing exactly that, scritching his fingers through Jensen’s hair at the same time, soaking up all of the pleasant little hums it elicits. “I really could stay here all day, y’know.”

Jensen _hmms _his agreement, snuggling closer and daring Jared to say anything about it with a fleeting kiss to his neck. He’s not allowed to tell anyone how much he likes to cuddle or be cuddled—by Jared. Which is fine. In return, Jensen can’t talk about the random-ass songs that come out of Jared’s mouth when he’s taking a leak. He doesn’t even know why he does it, but Jensen thinks it’s adorable, making requests from the other side of the door or from the shower because _you’re _not _peeing in the shower, Jared! That’s gross. Use the toilet, but don’t you dare flush it! _

So Jared flushes it because Jensen squeaks and it’s hilarious. Not to mention, it gives Jared an excuse to give him a killer, thigh-shaking blowjob in the shower as an _apology_. It does a number on his knees, tiles pressing down to the bone. Completely irrelevant when Jared feels fingers tightening in his wet hair and stuttered moans of his name before his mouth is pumped full of heady, addictive release.

** _I could go for some sex but I really can’t be asked to move right now. _ **

Jared startles at the words, keeping his reaction to a minimum. Even after a few weeks, hearing Jensen’s thoughts is still something he’s adjusting to. He hasn’t brought it up, worried that if he says anything, Jensen will stare at him like he’s crazy or close himself off from him. They’re _his _thoughts after all, and Jared, rightfully, shouldn’t be able to tap into them as if he’s hijacking Jensen FM.

There have been a couple of occasions where Jared’s had his suspicions about whether or not Jensen is on his wavelength, too. Due to the instances being so few and far between, there’s a good chance that it could be all guesswork, on Jensen’s part. The man is a master at reading people, so Jared has been told and observed. It’s a wonder he hasn’t caught onto the Buddy situation with how nervous Jared gets whenever his phone goes off… Especially when Jensen’s tucked into his side on the couch and it’s _right _there.

For now, Jared chooses to believe he’s the only one with the hangup, purposefully not rising to anything that Jensen says in his head, hiding fond smiles as best he can, ignoring the flutters in his chest when Jensen thinks about telling Jared he loves him. He tries to pass off throwing his arms around him and swaying them from side to side as him having the right to hug his boyfriend whenever he wants. Jensen will roll his eyes and make a face but ultimately sag into the hold or squeeze Jared back fiercely, breathing all of him in.

Anyway, since Jensen can’t be asked to move…

Jared reaches for the lube off the side, slicks up his hand and strips Jensen’s cock until he’s coming wet and hot, sucking a mark into Jared’s chest and squeezing his eyes shut.

“You really are too perfect, Jay.”

“I know. It’s a gift,” Jared replies, snatching a couple of wipes to clean them off with, making sure they’re freshly-scented so Jensen doesn’t recoil at the smell of damp. He laughs at Jensen’s protests brought on by Jared shifting around to deposit the waste in the bin, nullifying him with a hard kiss and a finger stroking down his jawline, which he settles into, drifting back to sleep. “I love you so much, Jensen… I’m gonna keep you safe, I promise. _No one _will _ever _hurt you again,” he tells him, sweeping a hand through his hair and kissing him on the forehead.

Jared tucks Jensen under his chin, drowns out everything other than the sound of the beautiful man in his arms soft breathing and falls into the dreamscape with him.

===

A few days later, Jared and Jensen are getting coffee and a bite at the local diner. It’s late. There are hardly any people in there with them. They’ve tucked themselves into a corner that they’ve made their own, and Jensen is currently sanitising everything that he can get his hands on, humming softly to himself as he does it. Jared watches him work, admiring his attention to detail, how smoothly his wrists twists from bottom to top for each utensil, buffing it on the way down until it comes back shiny, held up to his eye line for his inspection.

Jensen snaps on a pair of gloves, eyes having dampened with distress at the grease stains on the menus. He sets up a sheet of napkins on the table and places one menu at a time on top, meticulously pouring over every inch until no grease stains come back on the thumb of his right-handed glove. A fond smile dances across Jared’s face while he moves from one to the other, and he wonders if Jensen remembers that he’s there, throat closing up not seconds later when Jensen's foot locks around his under the table. He doesn’t need to say anything. Jared appreciates it all the same, reaching a hand out to cover Jensen’s gloved fist briefly, letting him know through actions that he’s here if he needs him.

Their meals are on their way and there’s a good chance that Jensen will re-clean the utensils once they arrive, especially if he considers the server to be… _messy. _Which for an ordinary person is their hair not tied back or covered, sweat, sauce and grime stains everywhere and the kind of attitude that makes people think they may have spat in their food. For Jensen, it’s more to do with what he assesses about them when he first takes them in, feeling them out as a person, what kind of morals they have, if they’re the type to wash their hands multiple times in between prep, cooking and serving. If there’s anything he thinks might be a threat to the food, the table, or even the floor their feet step on, depending on how drastic he believes it to be, he might have to start from the beginning.

And Jared will sit back, be patient and offer his support. It’s that or risk Jensen feeling like a burden, which he frequently claims to be around Jared. Multiple times when they’ve gone out to eat… anywhere, especially if it’s a random occurrence, Jensen sometimes has trouble getting out of the car because he’s worried Jared will see what he’s really like when out of his comfort zones. Jared has seen and _heard _him having mental freakouts, holding back tears from the wild beating of Jensen’s heart and the stream of thoughts telling him that Jared deserves someone so much better.

Just thinking about it forces Jared to take Jensen’s free hand in his and squeeze. Jensen squeezes back without asking what it’s about, offering a small smile as he moves on to the last stage, which is the condiments. Technically, the last stage is the bottle of purell in his pocket, but that’s not _actually _part of the ritual. Nevertheless, Jared has three backup bottles on hand for the day that Jensen misplaces his.

Fortunately, the person that brings their food over is radiant, lovely, looks exceptionally clean and Jensen’s face speaks to his relief that he doesn’t have to start all over again. The young, beautiful girl with a smile far too bright for this time of night sets down their food, asks them if there’s anything else she can get them, keeps her eyes trained on Jensen for far longer than Jared’s okay with and then flounces off when Jensen tells her they’re good.

Jared’s about to make a comment about her obvious flirting when he overhears someone a couple of tables down saying, “Dude, I just stopped to get a bite to eat and this guy in the back with this tall-ass other dude was like legit _sanitising _the whole damn table and everything. I’m like, what a weirdo, right? I mean, who does that?”

Across from him, Jensen must have heard it too because his body has gone rigid and he looks ready to go home. Jared bristles, swallowing the lump in his throat. He gathers up Jensen’s hand in his and squeezes meaningfully, putting as much _love _and _acceptance _and _understanding _as he can into his eyes and the action, fighting the urge to storm over to that asshole and break his teeth.

“Probably why the waitress is all flirting with him and shit. Must not ‘ve seen him deep cleaning fucking ketchup packets. Haha,” the douchebag adds, each word increasing the tension in Jared’s jaw.

He chances a glance forward, anger festering in his stomach like a swarm of agitated hornets. Jensen looks checked out, one step away from apologising and ducking out of the diner. No way. Jared’s not letting this asshole talk about Jensen this way—he’ll do anything to take that look of _I’m just a stain on this world _off of Jensen’s face.

With a quick squeeze to Jensen’s hand, Jared moves to get up, stopped by Jensen tugging him back down. “No, Jay. It’s not worth it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Jared replies, standing up and reaching a hand out to Jensen. “You’re more than worth it. Come on.”

Jensen eyes his hand. “Let’s just go back to yours… I’ll make you something, okay?”

“You can’t tell me you wouldn’t be thinking the same thing if this _asshole _brought up my condition, right?”

The reaction is immediate, Jensen’s eyes turning dark and steely. “That’s different. You can’t—”

“What? _Control it_? Neither can you,” Jared replies sternly, eyes softening as he secures Jensen’s hand in his and leads him over to the douchebag, no-life fuck face he’s having a hard time rationalising _not _killing. “Excuse me,” he says, cutting into whatever else he had to say to _whoever _he’s talking to and not caring in the slightest.

The guy looks at them, takes in their linked hands, notes Jared’s height, pales a little. “Uh, yeah?” he starts, whispering something into his phone before covering it. “Can I help you, um, gentlemen?”

“Oh, so you’re gonna be all polite and dandy now, are you?” Jared claps back, narrowing his eyes. “That either means you didn’t mean for us to hear what you were saying about my boyfriend or you’re hoping that by you being _nice _I won’t kick your ass.”

Douchebag swallows, cuts his eyes to Jensen, makes a face like _now_ he can see why the waitress had been flirting with him regardless of the hangup, which makes Jared even angrier. “Look… I, uh, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just, y’know, shooting the shit. Tryin’ to be funny—”

“You think making fun of a disorder is _funny, _do you?” Jared challenges, checking to make sure Jensen’s okay. He’s not looking at the person, but he’s not looking at his feet either so Jared considers that a good thing. Jensen doesn’t like confrontation. It makes him nervous and he retreats in on himself, so it’s up to Jared to fight this injustice for him. “Unless you understand what it’s like to have no control over your actions, other than running your damn mouth, _don’t _comment on it. He has just as much a right to come here and have a nice meal as anyone else. Now, if you wanna do the decent thing, you’ll _apologize _to him.”

There’s a pregnant pause. Jared keeps squeezing Jensen’s hand, needing him to squeeze back so that he knows he’s not overstepping, not making Jensen more uncomfortable than he already is. Around the diner, others have taken notice, some of them recognising the two of them. Jared watches, gob-smacked as people start putting in their two-cents.

“Well? Are you gonna apologise or not?”

“I suggest you take your ass somewhere else if you’re not even gonna treat him like a person. That man does the best damn Fillet Mingon I will _ever _have and he’s nothing but nice.”

Jared smiles, side-eyeing Jensen and seeing his neck redden from the praise.

The douchebag looks deeply embarrassed.

“My Husband threatens to leave me every week if we don’t stop at the restaurant before closing on Wednesdays. If he actually leaves me because you’re too much of an unconscionable low-life, I’ll be sending him your way when he realizes what a mistake he’s made.”

“I don’t want to cause a scene here, but you either have to say you're sorry or get the fuck out because Jared there has been coming here for years, and Jensen there is the only Chef I’ll bow to,” the diner Chef says, most likely having heard all of the fuss from the kitchen.

Jared sets his eyes on him for a second, nods and smiles his thanks, then levels the asshole with a waiting stare.

“Go on then. Apologise or leave,” he offers, daring him to try _anything _other than those two options.

“I’m sorry! Okay, I’m really sorry. I… shouldn’t have said anything…”

He decides asking Jensen to respond would probably be too much, so he nods, squeezes Jensen’s hand and moves to guide them back to his table—stopped by Jensen’s voice floating up to his ears.

“Thank you for your support, y’all. I really appreciate it. Let Megan know at front of house that I said you can have a free meal, on me,” he says kindly, squeezing Jared’s hand back. “And you… You’re only apologising because you feel pressured. It’s not brave. It’s not noble. What’s noble is what these fine folk here did, and my boyfriend for standing up for me in the first place. So, as far as I’m concerned, you can take your apology and cram it up your ass.”

Jared could not be prouder in that moment, heart singing, love flowing as he dips, and turns Jensen’s head for a quick kiss, unable to help himself. Jensen smiles at him, warm and open, offers the douchebag a flat look, like he’s nothing, and then walks Jared back to their table, where they both start tucking into their meals in amusement as the diner goers jeer until the man makes his exit, apologising emptily one last time at the door.

“You’re amazing,” Jared says, and truer words have never been spoken. “Seriously, Jen. Amazing.”

“You make me that way,” Jensen replies, pointing his fork at him. “Now, eat. You’ve been waiting long enough,” he instructs. Jared does as he’s told, savouring every bite, reaching over to stroke his thumb over the grooves of Jensen’s knuckles intermittently. It’s about five minutes later that Jensen says, “Tomorrow I’m taking the day off. And, uh,… I want you to come over. To my place.”

As best he can, Jared contains his excitement, heat flooding through him, eyes bursting at the seams with adoration, chest tight, aching in a good way. He just wants to reach across and hug him, never, ever letting go, kiss those lips and—

_Whirrrr. Whirrrrr. Whirrrr. _

Jared smiles at Jensen in response, calmed by the vibration against his leg. “I look forward to it. What do you bring to a Hobits hideout?” he jokes, sliding out his phone, reading the caller on screen. _Buddy. Shit. _“Crap. Jen, it’s Chad–I’ve really gotta take this. Are you gonna be okay?”

“Sure, take your time. Tell him I said the next time he steals you away from me, I’ll kill him in his sleep,” Jensen says airily, taking another bite of his food. He’s joking but Jared makes a horrified face anyway, keeping up the act, disguising the guilt that he feels for having to lie to the man he loves. “Come on… I don’t mean it. Maybe a little. You could tell him I love him instead but that would be a huge lie.”

“How ‘bout I tell him you’re willing to sort out his funeral arrangements?”

Jensen nods, lips pursed. “That works.”

After a hurried kiss on the lips, Jared strides out of the diner and answers the phone.

“What is it, Buddy? I’m on a date with Jensen.”

“You’re always on a date with Jensen. Your point?”

Jared laughs despite himself. “Are you _engaging _in banter?”

“It’s not really banter,” Buddy denies, sounding bored already. “Look, I just called to say be ready to go on a road trip in two weeks time. I won’t contact you until then. When I do, I’ll give you the coordinates for you to meet me at and the time. Do what you need to do to get this done. And… Take care of yourself, I guess? Bye.”

The line dies just like that and Jared stares at his phone like it let one rip, frowning as he pockets it.

_A road trip… What crazy-ass scheme does he have in mind? _

Dismissing it for now, Jared pockets his phone and heads back inside, to the one person he wants to be with.

===

Jensen fiddles with the cords on his shorts, twisting one around his finger absently. It’s not doing what he hopes it will. Calm him, that is. He’s torn between throwing up, cleaning his house from top to bottom for the fourth time today or cancelling on Jared. Something he really doesn’t want to do. It’s Jared. The man he’s probably—definitely a _little; _okay, a lot in love with. The man he might, _potentially _have plans to marry some day… Jared Ackles does have a nice _ring _to it after all. Or Padalecki-Ackles. Both are fine. Jared Ackles would be better. Jensen Padalecki doesn’t roll off the tongue right, he reasons.

Then people can call them the Jackles' or something. Yeah. Something silly like that. Cute, though.

Jensen shakes his head, releasing the cord. Trembling fingers scritch through his hair and slide down his face, tugging the skin around his eyes on the way.

He can’t stop shaking.

No one has been to Jensen’s house before. Not since he bought it. He’s further away so it makes sense to go somewhere else. And it stops people from seeing his house, dirtying up his house… _Judging_ his house. Jensen grabs the bannister, squeezing, wishing it was Jared’s hand he was holding right now.

He wants to do this. _Show _Jared his house—let him in…. To a place not even Danneel, Chris or his parents have ever stepped foot in. But it’s scary. Now that he’s thinking about it, agonising over it… Someone else’s feet on his floors. Different sweat. Different dead skin cells. Different kamikaze hairs.

Every situation involving Jared has been fine. Jensen hasn’t freaked out once when he's has been in the same room with him. He’s like a healing blanket. Or a temporary one. As soon as the warmth is gone, all bets are off and Jensen’s caged in from all sides, drowning in a sea of perpetual agony because his life preserver isn’t in the water with him.

God, he misses him something _fierce. _He knew he was going to need the whole day to prepare for this. Didn’t count on how hard it was going to be to spend almost a whole day away from him, though. Jensen feels like he’s missing a limb, sadness overwhelming him when he thinks about it, cold feelings of dread churning his stomach and making his heart _ache _for something that isn’t gone. It’s a strange buffet of emotions that Jensen can honestly say he’s never experienced before.

It won’t be long now. Jared’s on his way, the food’s ready. The place is spotless. Everything is going to be fine. Jared told him he doesn’t have to do this, that he’s fine with them staying at his place, that he trusts Jensen’s word when he says he has a cool house. And, he does have a cool house… He’s just never been able to show anyone before.

Jensen _wants _to show Jared his house. He does. The determination is there. The idea is there. The outline is marked on the page. He just has to put it in practice, colour in the lines, add the last layer of paint… Only question is, how does he pick up the brush? How does he start adding the strokes, working out the details, creating a symphony of different textures? How does he do any of that when he has no canvas to paint on?

A dull throb starts in Jensen’s head. He breathes in. Counts to ten, breathes out. Nails frisk the flesh of his arm. Another breath in. Another breath out.

What he’s afraid of, Jensen doesn’t really know. Jared’s not going to trash his house or tell him it’s filthy or tell him _he’s _filthy. Jared probably wouldn’t even care if there was a water stain on the glass, he’s that laid back. Jensen shakes away the thought of the stain, scratching harder at his arm.

He doesn’t normally scratch.

One more breath in. One more breath out. Keep repeating until the heart regulates.

Jensen tries picturing the scenario, seeing himself walk up to the door when it buzzes. His hand reaches up but he doesn’t grab the handle. He can’t. He’s rooted. Trapped. Can’t get out.

_She locks the door. The key goes in her desk drawer. She locks that, too. _

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Just breathe. Jensen keeps breathing, scratching, legs starting to bounce.

_“Can’t let anyone in, can we, my beautiful boy? No one can see this, can they? No one can see us.” _

Jensen covers his face with his hands and shakes.

_She comes over. Looks at him. Smiles. Always that same smile. Sick. Twisted. _

He has to stay focused. He has to breathe, get through it. Jared will be here soon. He’s not about to let him down for that _bitch. _

_Ba-bum… _ _Ba-bum… _ _Ba-bum…_

Focus on anything else. Jared’s smiling face. His dimples. His gorgeous laugh. Arms that make him feel safe. Hair so soft and smells amazing. Legs so long Jensen doesn’t even know how far up they go…

_Jensen. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Always such a slow grower. This is why you have me. No other woman will ever be this patient with you. _

Bile clogs his throat. He wants to throw up… He needs to do something, needs the thoughts to stop but he can’t abandon his post—he needs to be here to greet Jared.

Jared. Jared. _Jared_. Just _think_ about _Jared._

_Ba-bum.. _ _Ba-bum.. _ _Ba-bum.. _ _Ba-bum.. _ _Ba-bum.. _ _Ba-bum.. _

Feet pound the steps, fingers dig into flushed flesh. Jensen rushes out breaths, losing his rhythm.

_That’s okay, my precious baby. You just lie back and let me do all the work. Let me worship you, my handsome little soldier. _

He can’t take this. He can’t take seeing these tired scenes playing out through his head anymore. He doesn’t want to think about it. About her. About the shame. The wrongness of it. The guilt. The disgust. The self-loathing… He did that for so long… Why can’t it just be over?

_Ba-bum. _ _Ba-bum. _ _Ba-bum. _ _Ba-bum. _ _Ba-bum. _ _Ba-bum. _ _Ba-bum_

Is it her? Is it the situation? Is he losing it? Is he getting better, worse? It’s not normally this bad. It’s not normally this hard _just to breathe. _

_You do remember why you can’t say anything, right, Jensen? Because if you do, you’ll get in trouble. You’re a man—well, boy, and I’m a woman. They’ll believe me when I say you forced yourself on me. They all will. And then you’ll be in big trouble. Big, big trouble. Understand? _

Jensen shakes his head furiously, bridges his fingers at the nape of his neck and tucks his head between his legs.

_Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum—_

There’s a knock. His heart skips.

_You’re so—_

Another knock. It skips again.

_Ba-bum. _ _Ba-bum. _ _Ba-bum. _ _Ba-bum. _ _Ba-bum. _ _Ba-bum. _ _Ba-bum. _

Only one person is behind that door. Only one person is behind that door that he _wants _to see. To feel. To kiss, hold… Never let go of again.

_And you can’t say anything to you—_

They knock once more. Louder, this time. Urgent. Is Jared in trouble?

_Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum_ _Ba-bum--_

“Jensen? Come on, I forgot the secret knock. I’ll make it up to you with a hug and kiss, though, whaddya say?”

Jensen didn’t give him a secret knock. Jared’s trying to keep it casual, not upset the balance.

_Ba-bum.. _ _Ba-bum.. _ _Ba-bum.. _ _Ba-bum.. _ _Ba-bum.. _ _Ba-bum.. _

No one’s ever been in Jensen’s house. The door is right there. In front of him. Waiting to open and let Jared in but he can’t get up. He’s stuck. God, he’s pathetic.

_No one will ever—_

“Jen? Jen~. Oh, Jen-sen. You’re not gonna make me start quoting Shakespeare, right? I mean, if you want me to do that, at least find a balcony, geez.”

Jensen laughs softly, a smile breaking out on his face.

_You’re m—_

“All right. Ehem. You asked for it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. This stole all the hearts at the school talent show, so get ready to start beating them off with a stick,” Jared says cheerily through the door, exaggerating a huge intake of breath.

The words have Jensen rising to his feet, images of randomers coming out to listen to Jared perform and swoon for him making him a little bit pissed off. Maybe a lot pissed off. Maybe they should stay in their houses.

_Ba-bum… _ _Ba-bum… ...Ba-bum... _

Jensen dashes for the door before he can stop himself, working through the many locks, breathing ragged, clothes clinging to him but he doesn’t care right now.

He gets the door open, sees Jared with his mouth open, probably about to start making good on his promise. Jensen has a second to admire the column of his throat before strong, loving arms come around him and hold him against a firm body, big hands running up and down his back, lips kissing his forehead, cheek, the corner of his mouth tenderly.

“Is she gone?” Jared asks, and Jensen startles at the words. “You’re sweating. You only sweat when you think about her. Or, y’know… When we’re—”

“Yeah. She’s… She’s gone, Jay,” Jensen replies, pulling back to press a hard, close-mouthed kiss to Jared’s lips, one hand sneaking into his back pocket. “Can’t wait to Christen my bed,” he says, excitement dancing in his eyes despite the situation. He needs to walk over it, put it behind him.

It’s further endorsed when Jared tells him, “Good, because I got the all-clear a couple of hours ago and I can’t stop thinking about what’s it gonna be like to finally feel _all _of you.”

Jensen’s cock fattens up faster than Hanzel and Grettle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying this story so far, please leave a comment to let me know. I don't really like to ask for comments or make people feel like they have to leave them. But it does help immensely during the writing process when you can think back to the comments from the previous chapter and remember that there are people that are enjoying your work and are excited for what you have planned, if that makes sense? 
> 
> Thanks. :) 
> 
> Love, Kieran. 
> 
> Also, follow me on twitter for sneak previews of upcoming chapters. ;D I can be quite generous with them. 
> 
> https://twitter.com/TigaEasy


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